


Shards and shatters

by AvaRip



Series: Tesselation [2]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Original Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 116,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24356383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaRip/pseuds/AvaRip
Summary: After the events in Japan and three years of absence, Logan returns to the X Men to find a very different situation than the one he’d left behind; and a very different Rogue…
Relationships: Logan & Rogue, Logan/Rogue (X-Men)
Series: Tesselation [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1460710
Comments: 81
Kudos: 69





	1. The Rogue

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place after the events of “The Wolverine” and is mostly centered on Rogue's life, past, relationships, and Logan.
> 
> As I had mentioned in “The Return of She-King”, this is an extended/alternate version of the same story. Some things will change because of the longer plot, so you can also treat this as a stand-alone fic. Whatever helps you enjoy it more. 
> 
> Huge thank you to Englishmajor226 for her support, beta and guidance. This story came to fruition thanks to you and your Pinwheel series. You've been a great inspiration.
> 
> For the sake of continuity and explanation of certain events, some of the chapters – or parts of them – from “The Return of She-King” fic, will be used here as well. Feel free to skip them if you’d already read them and don’t wish to do it again. A notification will be made for every re-post. 
> 
> You're more than welcome to share your thoughts about the story. Feedback is always appreciated.

_“Finding yourself” is not really how it works. You aren't a ten-dollar bill in last winter's coat pocket. You are also not lost. Your true self is right there, buried under cultural conditioning, other people's opinions and inaccurate conclusions you drew as a kid that became your beliefs about who you are. “Finding yourself” is actually returning to yourself. An unlearning, an excavation, a remembering who you were before the world got its hands on you._

_(Emily McDowell)_

Tessellation: geometric pattern; repeated shape

  * The process or art of tessellating a surface, or the state of being tessellated.
  * An arrangement of shapes closely fitted together, especially of polygons in a repeated pattern without gaps or overlapping.



As this story began to become more and more coherent within me a while ago, I felt compelled to share what it was that draw me to Rogue as a character in the first place; why I’m so fond of her and why I consider her the best and most special comic book character – not just regarding the X Men, but in general.

When I started writing “The Return of She-King”, my mind began to drift back several years ago, during the first time I watched the X Men and fell in love with Rogue and her relationship with Logan.

The first two X Men movies are the only ones that had such a huge impact on me, that even though it’s been almost 17 years since I watched them, the plots, the characters and what could have been still rattle my thoughts.

Before the X Men movies, I knew very little about the characters, since I was never into comic books or the 90’s cartoon. I was familiar with the names and with some of the X Men’s abilities, but I never really cared to delve into their world…until 2003.

As an individual, I tend to see the potential a person has, what can become and what lies beneath, rather than the behavior, status and persona it exhibits. This tendency of mine is not only applied to real life people, but also to fictional characters.

When I watched the X Men at 17, I did not remember Rogue from the 90’s cartoon, so – technically – she was introduced to me for the very first time. 

I have to admit, I was disappointed I didn’t see more strength and determination from a 17 year old young girl whose rite of passage happened in such violent manner and forced her into adulthood through her struggle to survive on the streets. It never made sense to me back then – and it still doesn’t now – how a person my age who’s seen and been through hardships and trials most don’t even face during their entire adult life, would be depicted so meek and naïve, at the point where she looks more like a victim that just got lucky, rather than a tough street young woman who managed to find a way out of situations that could be called – at the very least – challenging.

Still, even with the portrayal of a lost little girl, I could see the immense potential lying underneath, and the fact that Rogue was a female character my age (we didn’t get a lot of those back then), made me relate to her almost immediately.

One of the most pivotal moments that made me love Rogue to the point she became my favorite hero, was the bedroom scene. While she absorbs Logan to heal herself, Scott, Storm and Jean enter the room and witness what’s happening along with some of the students who’d woken up from Logan’s call for help.

Jean and Storm are considered to be two of the most powerful mutants in the X Men lore. Their powers were severely toned down for the sake of plot in the movies – as many fans constantly complained – but we could still see how great and devastating their abilities were.

Yet the moment they witness Rogue absorbing Logan to the point he collapses, they both – along with the rest – stand there, looking utterly shaken by the unintentional power display from the fledgling mutant.

In the next scene, we see Professor X explaining to a recurring Logan how Rogue’s power works. And that exact moment was when I realized what an exceptional character she is.

Rogue’s powers have a major downside; they can’t be easily controlled – especially when she’s under a lot of stress or emotional turmoil. The main reason she cannot touch is because of her fear. She’s seen what her powers can do to others – and to herself – and the pain and repercussions they cause keep her from being in control of them, thus her inability to be close to the ones she loves. Given how compassionate, emotional and empathic this character is, this side of her powers is more than hard and demanding for her.

But one of the most interesting and – to me – the most important trait of her power, is that it does not have a “restriction drawback”. Rogue’s mutation is not limited in a certain way like the other mutants’.

Jean is a telepath/telekinetic; great and useful power, but she can’t shapeshift, nor fire sun energy blasts from her hands.

Storm controls the weather and nature’s elements (though lately her powers have been evolved), but she can’t teleport.

Magneto can bend metals and control magnetic fields (among other things), but he cannot read or manipulate people’s minds.

Logan heals instantly and has heightened senses and adamantium claws, but he cannot create ice or phase through objects.

And that’s where the beauty and uniqueness of Rogue’s powers lie; she can potentially do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING by using her power to absorb all the gifts, skills and knowledge other mutants and people possess. She can literally be not just a one woman army, but a one woman _legion_. I believe that there are certain comic book issues – or so I’ve read – where it has been stated that Rogue has the potential to be the most powerful mutant of them all. 

Also, when the Professor had tried to read her mind (in the comic books), he realized that the nature of her mutation not only states telepathic invasions hard, but also made it impossible for him to see how much her powers can evolve. That made him reach the conclusion that not only he could not diagnose in what way her power could grow, but that there was also a possibility it may have no limits.

Rogue can easily be called the “ugly-duckling” of the X Men. She started as a lost teenager with a mutation that seemed more like a curse and a huge obstacle; but in the end, she managed to prove just how incredibly powerful and overwhelming her gifts can be, earning this way not only the Brotherhood’s attention, but also the X Men’s respect and her enemies’ awe.

This exact factor was one of the main reasons I decided to write this story focusing on Rogue.

I understand that 90’s Rogue who possessed Captain Marvel’s powers is considered the best version of her since, from what I can tell, _that_ Rogue was exceptionally well written – unlike her most recent portrayals. Yet, I refuse to believe that this is the only way a character like her can go.

In the years that followed, Rogue managed to gain control of her powers and lose them over and over again. She managed to learn to use many powers she had absorbed from other mutants better than the owners of these powers themselves, and also use them simultaneously whenever needed…and that was taken away from her. The evolution of her powers was given to Hope Summers (daughter of Jean Grey) who, not only does what Rogue should be able to do easily by now – absorbs skills, powers etc. from a distance without the need to touch or cause pain –, but she also keeps them permanently without any side effect. Rogue managed to reach this level of power recently in the “Mr. & Mrs. X” comic books after all these years…yet I had this ominous feeling that it would be temporary as well. Given how her story arc went in the “Powers of X” series I was – sadly – proven right.

This constant back and forth of her powers and their control not only makes this repetition boring and frustrating, but also – in my opinion – renders Rogue incapable of evolving even more as a mutant and a person.

Rogue is a character that I believe was never given the chance to grow from within, from her core. It was always an external factor that made her spin around, lose control, suffer inner turmoil and struggle to keep herself sane and in charge of her powers. This kind of plot takes place several times in the comic books – as far as I can tell.

In the movies she doesn’t even have _that_. She remains a frightened person that cannot do anything more than just use her powers for a fleeting moment – without bringing an inch of her dynamic in the story – and then she’s pushed aside to a corner as a viewer, unable to show her potential and importance to the team.

Unable to accept that a person who has the strength to overcome obstacles such as bringing on the verge of death her boyfriend, facing her parents’ rejection and all the dangers that lure in a life lived on the streets, I chose to depict Rogue in a way that I strongly believe a person with her character and inner strength would be shaped by the several blows life got to her.

The evolution of her powers and the way she’d manage to deal with and use them was the other part that I needed to bring in.

Given that Rogue is someone who absorbs the life force of anyone she touches, I find it utterly absurd that (in the comics) after several years of struggles, challenges and absorbing other people, she _still_ wouldn’t manage to unlock most – if not all – the secrets of her powers that elude her because of her inexperience and fear.

This is a person that craves love and intimacy in all its forms more than anything; despise the pain her powers cause, Rogue is also someone who truly wants and needs to put them to good use for the sake of others; she’s someone who’s willing to give her _life_ for the people she calls family and friends; who desperately wants to redeem herself from old sins and mistakes, and protect the ones who are weak and helpless just like she once was. How is it possible that a woman like her isn’t able to find a way and the strength to face her inner demons and all the fears that keep her from controlling her powers so she finally learn how to keep others – and herself – safe from all their “side effects”? 

That’s how the Rogue of this story came to life.

After I began establishing the world I wanted to write about and Rogue started “speaking” to me, I came across a revelation that made me love and connect with her even more;

Rogue as a person is not a monad; as Lachlanrose wrote in her brilliant story “Run”, Rogue is a _collective_ ; _a_ _plural being_. By absorbing others not only she possesses their powers (if they’re mutants), but also their memories, feelings, skills, knowledge and character traits. That, as a result, makes her like water – another beautiful metaphor I once read in a comic book page. She constantly changes and transforms, as well as the powers she owns.

She’s someone who’s inner world is created by parts that come from other people – parts that become some sort of “patches” that complete whatever imperfect pattern she needs to conclude.

But regardless the pieces she collects in order to integrate to her inner puzzle, her core – the essence of her existence as an individual, as a being – is still there; in the center of all the parts she embeds while she struggles to find where each piece fits to help her complete the picture. Like “an arrangement of shapes closely fitted together”; a _tessellation_.

This kind of existence not only gives her the opportunity to constantly evolve as a person – and a mutant – but also privileges her with knowledge and an understanding that is quite elusive to most of her teammates. Her power can definitely be seen as a curse, but also as an exceptionally unique and important gift. Everytime she absorbs someone’s energy, she might need to struggle to control the voice and the person’s existence in her mind, but the moment she succeeds, her inner self and emotional and mental arsenal become even stronger.

The moment I decoded this part of Rogue’s powers, a second revelation hit me harder than the first;

As humans, we are born with certain characteristics; flaws and talents, pros and cons, strengths and weaknesses. A plethora of pieces lying scattered into our subconscious, waiting for us to sharpen them, allow them to expand to their final form and, when the time comes, to connect them in order to bring to life the image we are destined to own.

But this image, this picture that every person struggles to shape and form, cannot be completed based only on inherent pieces; it takes help from others – and life – to be able to form.

As we grow, we interact and contact with waves of people that come and go; first, with our parents and relatives; then friends and teachers come, and as we continue to grow, lovers, colleagues, adversaries and several passersby cross paths with us. Some of them leave a piece – smaller or bigger – to help us finish the puzzle; some of them take a piece – smaller or bigger – from us for the same reason, and sometimes they help us discover a piece of our own we had no idea we possessed. Sometimes a piece seems too insignificant and sometimes a piece can be so overwhelming, that shaping it to fit properly seems impossible. Sometimes we forget pieces that remind us their existence in the most inappropriate moments, or when we’re not ready to see where and if they fit at all.

And sometimes, something happens and manages to destroy the picture completely; and then all the pieces lie before us tangled and broken. Like _shards and shatters_.

When those times come, what we need to do is pick them up and start all over. And while we do this, awareness makes its appearance.

Some pieces might not fit anymore; some might be too sharp, with edges; others will just remain where they lie, until another piece of the puzzle comes our way, and then we’re ready to pick them up again, because this time we know where they fit. And that time, each piece just fits perfectly.

Then suddenly, the picture changes again and seems bigger, better and more complete than ever; and we realize that all this time we were paying so much attention to the pieces that had come from others, that we forgot how important the pieces that come from us are. That in the end of it all, the image we struggle to create is _ours_ and _ours alone_. And no matter how many parts we take – or we are _forced_ to take by others –, no matter how many pieces of ours we lose down the road, this image represents _us_ ; it is about _us_ ; and it should only depict _us_. Our core, our essence and what lies within.

This is exactly what Rogue represents to me. The struggle of a person to keep its essence intact as it crosses paths with people and moments that affect its life with knowledge, joyful and painful experiences, gain and loss, betrayal and trust, love and hate and all the things that make us who we are. Sometimes they take us over, sweep the ground under our feet, make us forget who we truly are and what we truly want; sometimes in our desperate attempt to fit in, to be accepted, to apply everything we were taught to see as “right” and be “good”, we bury our true self deep down and we struggle to make importing pieces to fit even when they don’t. We make the mistake to keep pieces that we were never supposed to, and gnaw the ones that we should allow to expand; we leave aside the ones that we’re afraid they’ll be called “wrong” and pretend they don’t slash our skin everytime we’re looking for another piece to complete this puzzle that starts to make no sense.

But life always has a way to bring our focus back and help us fix the pattern…as long as we let it. As long as we are willing to endure the pain of the sharp pieces, as long as we have the strength to toss aside the ones we are so afraid to let go and accept the ones we hesitate to pick up, the haze will start to clear and the picture will begin to make sense once more.

Rogue of my story is this person. She’s afraid, but in time she does not let her fear take the best of her anymore. Her broken pieces cut her severely, yet this time she manages to heal; she picks up the pieces and puts them together, amalgamating herself once more to someone better, stronger, more determined to embrace _who_ and _what_ she is – not just for herself, but for the ones she loves as well.

She’s still inclined to make mistakes, stray, bend; but this time she has the courage to not let hardships keep her down. She’s affected by them, but in a way that makes her learn, correct the wrongs and keep going.

And when the time comes, this Rogue will be able to finally complete the biggest part of the picture; she’ll grow beyond the guilt about her powers; the voices in her head won’t be shouts and noise, but calm whispers that will guide her where she’s meant to be.

And as I reach the end of this long prologue, it becomes even clearer to me why I feel so close to this character for the past 17 years: we all struggle with the voices in our head from the ones we “absorbed” ever since we began to understand this world. Voices we call “parents”, “friends”, “teachers”, “lovers”, “society”, “ethics”, “right and wrong”. We all fight to control our powers and put them to good use – for ourselves and others. We all aspire to correct our mistakes and find redemption. We all strive to thrive. And we all long to touch, to love and find intimacy in a world that makes us feel we’re alone and outcasts.

In the end…we all are Rogues.


	2. The Return of She-King*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-posting chapter from "the Return of She-King". Feel free to skip it if you do not wish to re-read.
> 
> I feel compelled to apologize for re-posting chapters from my previous fic, but as i aforementioned, this story is - in a way - an extended version of the same plot. Given this, i didn't want the readers to feel forced to go back and read the original fic, nor i wanted to leave any plot gaps that might cause confusion. This only happens in the first few chapters, so i ask for your patience and understanding. I would also like to assure you that there will be a brand new chapter posted before or after every re-post.

She had decided to return to the Mansion some time ago. She stopped for a moment to look at the overwhelming sight of the building rising before her. It wasn’t the same. Nothing was the same. _She_ wasn’t the same.

Rogue had crossed the threshold of the big oak doors for the first time years ago. Struggling to come to terms with her “gift’’, she soon realized the price she had to pay was much higher than most mutants’.

After she decided to take the cure, “Rogue’’ no longer existed. For once more she was “Marie’’. Not the one who was ostracized from her home for being someone – _something_ – she never chose to be in the first place, but the one who had turned her back to her powers for a chance at something she thought she’d never be able to have. The one who was now a “ _coward_ ” and a “ _traitor_ ’’ to her kind and because of that, could no longer stay.

The day she closed the door behind her she was barely 19, leaving a place she once called home for the second time, once more trying to find her place in this world.

Few months later, life came to knock her feet off the ground, reminding her that you can run from yourself, hide from the world, pretend to be someone you ‘re not…but no matter what, you cannot deny nor change who you are underneath. A most important lesson painfully taught and well learned after the cure worn off.

When Marie left the X Mansion she was a young girl; after Logan disappeared without any intention of ever coming back, she had followed, leaving no sign or trace of where she was heading.

Everyone thought she was gone for good as well, though her closest friend – the _only_ friend she had left – hoped otherwise.

Now, years later, a woman resembling only in the slightest way that young girl, was stepping into the grounds of the school. While she was getting closer, the people who knew her recognized her immediately…and not.

The person who once carried the names “Rogue’’ and “Marie’’ had returned; “Marie’’, or “Rogue’’ as they knew her, had not.

It was strange. This woman who was coming towards their way seemed like she was crossing the gates for the first time – as if she had never stepped her foot here before. In a way, she hadn’t. Yet, her reappearance after all this time, her resurfacing after all the silence that filled her absence and the rising questions about her whereabouts seemed like a return…the return of someone she’d been hiding underneath – under layers of clothes, fear and uncertainty; under all her pain.

The return of a warrior, carrying a sea of souls within.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: introduction of Rogue


	3. And so it begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to Englishmajor226 for her beta and guidance
> 
> Here's the playlist that kept my inspiration going while i was writing this chapter:  
> • X2 suite (X Men theme) – John Ottman/X Men OST  
> • Suite of Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier's theme – Henry Jackman/ Captain America: The Winter Soldier OST  
> • Survivor – 2WEI  
> • Coward – Renholder remix (instrumental)/Underworld OST  
> • The wings of Icarus – Celldweller  
> • Suit up – Alan Silvestri/The Avengers OST  
> • Princess of the dawn – Accept  
> • Born in power – Wild Kitten

**_Somewhere in the North Atlantic…_ **

****

“Holy shit man, it’s getting worse and worse! Didn’t they say it was gonna be a clear sky and a calm sea?”

Tommy lifted the neck of his jacket and put his hands on the rail to steady himself.

The sea seemed to becoming wilder and more untamed as the night was getting darker. Black clouds were slowly gathering above and the sounds of thunder were warning for the imminent storm.

He’d been in this job for 9 months, and that was his third time crossing the ocean to Africa in order to gain some “sea time”. Not what he’d call opportunity of a lifetime, but the money was really good compared to what other companies paid – given the sensitive “merchandise” they were transporting. Plus, he had no problem with the company’s policy; quite the opposite in fact.

He turned to look at the burly, gruff man leaning on the rail next to him, eyes focused on the swirl of waves before him.

“You’re not much of a talker are you?” Tommy asked, and the only response he got was a low grunt.

“If it’s because you’re the new blood here, don’t sweat; the guys are cool, and we’re pretty safe. The ‘cargo’ is as secured as it can get. Nothing’s getting outta the bay before we reach the harbor. Not that it would be a smart move if they tried,” Tommy laughed, and the man shot him a glare that shut him up right away.

He was one of the biggest men he’d ever seen. Dark, long, slick hair held in a ponytail that laid down his back. His edged face was adorned with a black triangular beard that seemed too polished for a guy like him. His dark blue coat couldn’t hide the size of his biceps and forearms, and his khaki pants showed the length of his strong legs. Even drooped, his 6’2 height was more than apparent.

Tommy kept his thoughts to himself for a while, until the corner of his right eye caught a movement; he turned and saw the other rookie that was hired at the same time with the surly hulk right next to him. 

The two guys shared a look and Tommy wondered – not for the first time ever since they embarked – if these two were just friends or brothers. They seemed to have this silent communication that never failed to deliver whatever messages they were exchanging. But then again, this guy in front of him was mute, so maybe they’d found that way to “talk” to each other after some time.

His eyes went back and forth at them; he pondered again what their connection was. They didn’t look very much alike. Sure, they were both big and tall and they shared the same style: long hair – though the mute guy’s were shaved and only a wide stripe was held back by a chord –, thick beards and similar clothes.

But the mute’s hair was dark blond and his eyes were grey, and the way he carried himself was different.

Two silver piercings were dangling from his left eyebrow, and a small sphere was marking the spot between his chin and lower lip. His expression was a bit softer and he stood with a calmness his tough friend – or brother, whatever – lacked severely.

A couple of seconds passed and the dark man right next to him lifted his chin and gave a nod to the other rookie who answered back with a nod. He gave one last look to Tommy and headed back where he came from.

Tommy’s curiosity got the best of him, and unable to keep his tongue, he popped the question.

“So…” he said a bit awkwardly, lifting his shoulders and pushing his hands a little deeper to his pockets. “What’s the deal with you and that guy? You’re friends, brothers…something else?”

The dark man turned and looked at him, and suddenly Tommy wasn’t so sure he’d made the right call.

“Yeah,” the guy said shortly.

Tommy was confused. “Yeah, what?”

“We are,” he answered.

Tommy made one last effort. This dude was almost talking as much as the other greenhorn and now that he finally did, he wasn’t gonna let the opportunity slip.

“Friends or brothers? Or something else?”

“All three,” he stated, and gave him a look that didn’t leave any more room for small talk.

Tommy kept staring at him baffled, when suddenly a thunder cracked the sky above their heads and thick tears started to pour on them heavily. The wind howled, making the sea even more frustrated and angry.

“ _Shit!_ ” Tommy yelped, and held the railing frantically.

He heard a rumble that resembled a laugh and turned his head towards its sound abruptly.

“Afraid of thunder, boy?” the man asked, and this time his eyes contained an inch of mockery in them.

“ _What?_ Fuck _no!_ ” Tommy yelled and stood up straight, looking pissed. “Just caught me off guard, that’s all!” he said, and tried to steady himself by moving away from the railing to put his back on a sturdier surface few steps behind him. He huffed and shook his head.

“I don’t know what’s worse; being out here with this shitty weather or asking to go down in the bay and be with the shitty cargo.”

The man turned and glared at him, making a shiver climb up Tommy’s spine. “You really like this job, don’t you?”

Tommy glared back and scorn covered his face. “Hey man, you all might think I’m a mindless kid just because I’m the youngest here, but that doesn’t mean I’m dumb. These freaks down there are dangerous. They’re monsters dude; fuckin’ _muties_. They keep spreading like fuckin’ _disease_. When it comes down to it, there’s only one way to deal with that; take ‘em down before they take you. There’s no other way, and if _that’s_ how it needs to be done, then I’m down for the ride. Trust me, brother; I’m not wrong about this,” he concluded.

The man turned the other way and Tommy watched his hands clutching each other like he was squashing something in them. Tommy narrowed his eyes at him. “If you feel so bad for them, why the hell are you here?”

“I _don’t!_ ” he snarled, and Tommy almost jumped. “I needed a job; this is it and I’m fuckin’ _good_ at it. Doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it.”

Tommy looked at him and shook his head in contempt as he turned his stare back to the sea.

The man sneered in anger at the stupid kid and shifted his attention to the opposite direction. Fiery gold covered his pupils as he tried to control himself. He looked up at the sky among the clouds searching, trying to see it. He pulled himself back together and shut his eyes as he fought to refocus.

Kuolema; kiirehdi. _Death; hurry up._

......

_Cold. Wet._

In the lowest level where the “cargo” was kept, there weren’t much more for your skin to feel. The heart on the other hand, was prone to feel anything and everything the destination of this long trip was promising once it reached its end.

She lifted her eyes slowly as she kept her head down and scanned the other faces one more time. Everything she’d seen from the very first moment was still there; only stronger…

_Fear. Anxiety. Sorrow. Desperation._

She could practically see them steaming out, leaking out of the poor creatures’ pores, like a stench that corroded her nostrils. She felt in her stomach the same tempest that was mourning outside the watertight iron shell.

Suddenly, what felt like a long line of big waves shook the ship roughly, and some voices let the panic that was barely restrained, out.

 _Fifteen._ Fifteen people, women and children, from 13 to 50 years old were heading to a fate they didn’t deserve. The only reason they’d earned this was because they were mutants. Their crime? They were not powerful enough to be used for experiments, nor were strong enough to escape; or not to be caught in the first place.

 _Dispensable_.

She heard one of the guards’ gruff voice yelling to keep their mouths shut. He was angry; frustrated; and that was never good.

The other four just laughed and started to make jokes, making this torturous journey even worse.

She shrank inside her cover even more and tried to block the crude humor and the sadistic pleasure the laughs were giving away. She brought her dirty hand to her neck to feel the suppression collar. Perhaps some anger would help her tone down the horror that was surrounding her.

She remembered when long time ago she felt the infinitesimal weight of another piece of metal adorning her neck. Only that metal didn’t give her the sense of captivity, but of safety. It offered her consolation and tender thoughts for the owner of the chain, whereas the inhibitor collar kept reminding her the true, harsh face of reality.

The old military trumpery represented life and a second chance; the one holding her neck and powers in check, slavery…and death.

She forbade herself to keep on with the comparisons. It was another time, in another world; and she was another person.

“I’m fuckin’ bored man,” she heard one of the guards say to the others. “How much longer we have to stay down here with these animals?”

“Patience, Joe,” another responded. “In 30 minutes our shift’s over and we can go up and breathe some clean, fresh air again.”

The man named Joe turned his semi-automatic in his hands. “Finally; I was about to shoot someone in here,” he said with a loud voice, and everyone who wasn’t dressed and loaded with military equipment winced.

He smirked wickedly and turned his attention to the mutants that were sitting on the floor. His impatience started to wear on him and, having nothing better to do, he began to scan the freaks that were going to be sold to the highest bidder once they stepped their foot on land.

He looked closer than before and noticed that some of them were hiding behind the rags they were given completely. _I don’t even wanna imagine what they look like to hide like that_ , he thought. He made a face of disgust and kept his eyes moving.

Some of the ones he could see what they looked like, he’d rather not. Scales, yellow eyes, pointy ears; some of them even had blue or green skin.

He sneered at them, and some who’d dared to glance at him, shove their heads down immediately. _Fucking mutant pieces of shit._

His focus shifted on two girls and a woman that looked normal. The girls didn’t seem older than 15 and the old hag looked like she was in her mid-fifties. He inspected them more carefully; under other circumstances, he’d have passed by them on the street, mistaking them for actual _people_.

The thought that there were probably still more than enough mutants out there who could actually manage to trick normal humans and continue to live among them, made his blood boil.

The two girls were perched in a corner, holding each other’s hand the whole time. They were occasionally sharing small smiles of encouragement, but nothing more than that. Whether they’d become friends after they were taken, or they were simply two strangers who were just trying to hold on to each other, sometimes survival during most stressful situations managed to bring people together like that.

Suddenly, the sound of heavy boots knocking the metal floor as they were getting closer, made them turn their heads.

Slowly, they looked up, eyes widened in fear, and saw the guard named Joe hovering above them, watching them with a look of eerie, deadly calmness. And just like that, they knew what was coming. 

The two teenagers went numb and completely still, like a deer staring at the lights of a car driving straight on it.

The guard grabbed one of the girls from the hair, as she and her coeval screamed in horror. The rest of the women followed, and one of the other armed men used the back of his gun to clock the girl that was left in the corner to keep her silent. The other three pointed their semi-automatics to the prisoners and screamed threats in order to keep them quiet.

One of the women with “extreme” mutation who was sitting close, went to the injured girl that was now laying down unconscious. She held her in her arms and wiped the blood that started to trickle down.

Joe dragged the girl all the way to the middle of the storage room and then threw her down for good measure. Once the screams subsided, the other guards turned to him.

“What the fuck are you doing, Joe? We’re supposed to keep things low and quiet, not to stir shit up!” one of them yelled.

Joe ignored him and lowered a bit to make an eye contact with the young girl that was now sobbing and shaking. When he failed to make her look at him, he grabbed her jaw and forced her face up.

The girl let out a muffled sound. “Please; _please_ ,” she begged.

Joe brought her closer to him as his gloved hand started adding more pressure, making her cry out in pain. “Look at you, looking all normal and human,” he said with a vicious smile. “What’s your name, honey?”

“W-Wendy,” the young girl whispered.

“Wendy,” he said as he was trying to see how the name tasted in his mouth. “You’re a very pretty girl, you know that?”

Wendy let out a scary sob, and her eyes filled with tears and a silent plea again.

“How many boys you tricked into thinking you’re normal, huh? How many did you use to pretend you’re not a fuckin’ parasite?” he hissed.

The girl looked more and more horrified as she thrashed in his hands, a futile desperate attempt to escape.

Joe threw her down again and took the semi-automatic that was hanging in front of his chest off him. He tossed it to one of the other guards, as he went down on his knees. “Keep that safe for me, Doug. I wanna teach pretty Wendy here a lesson,” he said and grabbed the girl from the shirt, tearing it apart.

The other women and children watched in horror, as Wendy lifted her hands in front of her, crying and pleading as Joe started unbuckling his belt. The guard called Doug grabbed the gun reflectively. “What the fuck are you doing? She’s a fuckin’ mutie for Christ’s sake!” he said with contempt, as Joe completely ignored both him and the girl’s begging.

“ _Ugh!_ ”

The exclamation was so loud and so filled with contempt, that everyone stopped and tried to see whom it had come from.

Joe looked up and saw one of the fully covered women keeping her head with one hand as she gave away another muffled noise in disgust. He didn’t need to guess she was the one who’d interrupted his little “party”.

He rose imminently and walked towards her. Even though it was clear she’d heard him coming, she did nothing to show it. She just kept herself covered and her eyes on the floor.

Joe stood above her and gave her a light kick as a nudge. “What’s your fuckin’ problem, huh?”

He got no response back. The woman remained still and hidden behind the rag she’d placed on her, like she was not acknowledging the man’s presence. Like she was ignoring him…and that pissed him off.

He grabbed the woman and forced her to stand up; he then pushed her back on the wall and seized her from the neck. His left hand went for the cloth that was covering her face like a hood and pulled it off abruptly. He shoved her back to the wall again, with more force this time, both his hands clutching her throat.

Her face was covered from long thick brown hair that fell like a blanket in front of her.

“ _Look at me, bitch!_ ” Joe yelled, and she slowly raised her head.

Two brown eyes stared back at him timidly. The way the guard’s thumbs pushed her jaw violently up forced her hair to flow back, and two stripes of white surrounding her face were revealed. 

He looked at her startled. He thought she and the others who were completely muffled did that to cover their hideousness. As his eyes checked her, he realized that, she at least, had managed to trick them into thinking she wasn’t worth the trouble.

He gave her another once-over. Not older than 25 and, even though he hated to admit it, one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. The silver streaks reminded him of childhood stories about witches that bared the mark of the devil. Oh, she was a “charmer” alright; and a much better way to spend the few minutes left for his shift to over.

Joe pressed himself closer and made her look him in the eye, just as he had done with the girl before. The brown of her eyes stared back at him and for a moment, he thought he saw a glimpse of challenge in them.

“What’s the matter, you fuckin’ cunt? You have a problem with how I run things around here?” he hissed.

She kept staring at him, unable to make a sound. Joe smirked and added a bit more pressure to her throat. She grabbed his hands as she felt the oxygen becoming less and she opened her mouth as if she wanted to speak.

His smirk disappeared and his grip loosened a bit. “What? You wanna say something to me, mutie?”

The young woman kept holding his hands, as if she knew he was going to try and choke her again, and took a deep breath. “Actually…” she whispered, “I do have something I wanna say.”

“Lemme guess,” Joe said smugly. “You wanna apologize for the _seriously_ bad mistake you’ve made. Don’t you?”

His smirk started to appear again, until something he saw in those eyes made his heart filled with cold; an alarming feeling of doom washed over him, as the words she spoke next, were her ultimatum.

“Actually, _sugar_ ,” she whispered as her “fear” was slowly replaced by fury, “I was gonna say that _you_ ’ve made a seriously bad mistake; and sadly for you, you don’t even have enough time left to regret it.”

With that, both of her palms came from the side and landed with force on his ears. The crushing pain made the guard scream in shock and agony as his eardrums were struggling to deal with the explosive result of the hit; his hands loosened and she grabbed his glock with her left hand from his thigh holster and spun him around, caging his neck with her right arm.

She pushed the gun at his temple while the rest of the men pointed their semi-automatics at her. The women and children let out choked sounds of panic as they gathered in a corner holding each other, watching stone-still what was happening.

“Now, now boys,” she drawled, making her Southern accent deliberately thicker, “you don’t wanna do that. ‘Cause if things go ‘south’…some of you are gonna have to experience a _severely_ traumatic déjà-vu; and this time, none of you will live to tell the tale.”

The guard named Doug lowered his gun slightly in what seemed a mix of shock and terror. His eyes were wide open and his mouth seemed to try saying something that his mind hadn’t quite caught up with yet. After a moment, his brain finally began to cooperate, and a whisper slipped through his teeth. “ _Rogue_?”

Rogue let a savage smile stretch her lips, and a gleam of madness sparkled in her eyes. “Doug,” she whispered back with a tilt of her head. “Long time no see.”

“ _How_ -“

“I survived? Or how I found you?” she asked through a hiss. “I _warned_ you…I warned you and everyone else long time ago. You’ll _never_ escape me. You can’t cheat death, Doug; not _twice_.”

The words made suddenly Doug snap out of his lethargy and went for the young girl his friend Joe had tried to rape. While the other guards made sure Rogue wouldn’t turn her gun against him, he instantly grabbed her arm making her scream, and held her in front of him as a shield.

“ _You make one move and the bitch dies_!” he yelled, soaked in adrenaline and something else that made his mind scream _inevitable_.

Rogue’s jaw tensed and shifted as she pressed the barrel of the glock deeper in the guard’s temple, taking a choked painful grunt out of him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she warned him in a low, controlled voice.

“Yeah? Watcha gonna do you fuckin’ _freak_? There are four of us and only one of you. The collar on your neck won’t let you use your powers. You pull the trigger, _I_ pull the trigger; and then your precious mutie over here will be another casualty no one gives a shit about. Another freak you _killed!_ ”

Rogue’s eyes flickered as a memory passed in front of them swiftly.

“You sure you want another life on your body count?” Doug spat.

Rogue stayed silent for a second. Her peripheral sight caught the innocent people that had been captured and treated like they were the worst criminals. She knew the terror for what was coming when they were going to be solved as slaves; their freedom and life stolen from them. She saw the glint of hope and agony in their eyes, waiting to see if they still had a chance at life…or if it was pointless to hope.

She turned her attention back to the man in front of her and the girl that was still struggling to break free, weeping and beseeching for a way out.

“You know what, Doug?” she finally said. “You’re right; there are too many of you for me to stop you all.”

Joe gave a chocked laugh and Doug seemed to ease a bit; until she spoke again.

“So, it’s a good thing I’m not alone in this.”

Within a second, two women that were fully covered and sitting behind the guards jumped up and attacked two of them. One sliced the one guard’s throat with a combat knife, and the other grabbed the gun of his comrade from his waist holster – being caught up by watching his fellow bleed to death – and shot him at the nape.

At the same time, Rogue pointed the gun at Doug and nailed a bullet in his eye, instantly killing him without risking the girl get shot. The moment she pulled the trigger, her other hand went under Joe’s chin and with a brisk move she snapped his neck, letting him fall dead on the floor.

After securing the place, all three women realized with a small delay the screams of the captured mutants. They went to appease them, reassuring them that they were all safe and that they were going to get them out of there alive and well. Rogue hasted straight to the young girl whose life had been held by a thread merely a moment ago; she had collapsed on all fours and now she was convulsing violently from the sobs she had tried to stifle. Rogue placed her hands around her, trying to calm her down. Now was not the time for anyone to fall apart; it wasn’t over yet.

When everyone had regained some of their self-control, Rogue and the two women gathered away from the rest. They pushed the pin numbers on their inhibitor collars they’d memorized the moment they were given to them – courtesy of Shadowcat –, and the metal chokers were removed. A sense of relief washed over all three of them.

“Fuckin’ finally,” one of them said. “I couldn’t stand that thing anymore.”

“Beast told me it will only take a few minutes for our powers to kick in, so we might as well begin,” Rogue offered.

“Domino, you stay here and make sure the women and children are safe,” she instructed the female with the short dark hair and the black skin eye “patch” that had spoken earlier.

“Tattoo;” the young woman with the green long hair that was pulled to one side, revealing a half shaved scalp and a brow covered with tats looked at her. “You and I head to the bridge to have a ‘talk’ with the captain. Once we take over the control of the ship, we’ll contact Domino to bring everyone up for extraction. Clear?”

“Clear,” the two women responded in one voice, and they all proceeded to collect the weapons of the dead guards and adjust their transmitters. Before Rogue and Tattoo began to leave, Domino stopped them and addressed Rogue in a hushed whisper.

“What about their collars?” she asked pointing with her head to the other mutants. “Are we leaving this to Shadowcat when we extract them, or you can do something about it?”

“You know I can do something about it,” Rogue responded leaning towards. “You also know it’s pretty risky. What if one, or more of them, gets a panic attack? We’re in the middle of the ocean. You think you can deal with a situation like that?”

Domino shrugged, pretending she was thinking about it. “Guess I’m just gonna have to wish I don’t run out of luck,” she replied sassily, winking at her.

Rogue returned the sass with a smirk, but refused to let her teammate take the chance. She shook her head dismissively. “Keep your luck, sugar. We might need as much as you can give us before this night ends.”

Domino blinked in understanding.

The women and children watched them warily, not realizing what was taking place.

Rogue gave them one last look and whispered to Domino. “If they ask-“

“You don’t have to tell me,” Domino cut her. “And they don’t need to know.”

Rogue nodded and turned to Tattoo. “Let’s go see what the view looks like from the highest deck.”

……

“Sir, are you sure we can make this trip under such conditions? The weather forecast hadn’t mentioned extreme weather phenomena before we left the harbor. Perhaps we should go back,” the chief mate said to the captain. He’d noticed the sea becoming more and more turbulent, and he could see a swarm of dark clouds waiting for them in the horizon, as several thunders were scorching the sky above. The moment he saw what was waiting ahead, he’d run to the bridge.

“Don’t worry,” the captain said. “I’ve dealt with bad weather before. It won’t be a problem,” he assured the man who was second-in-command. “It seems more like a local storm than anything else. I know how to handle this. Besides, even if we had to go back, we can’t. The company would have our necks if we returned with the ‘cargo’. They want them out of the country as soon as possible.”

The chief mate was skeptical. He wanted to be rid of the “cargo” too, but he was not willing to risk his life for it. And the over confidence the captain showed didn’t settle his worry at all.

“Sir, with all due respect, are you suggesting it’s alright to risk ours and the crew’s safety the ‘cargo’s’ sake? ‘Cause I’m not willing to go that far, and I’m pretty sure the rest of the men will agree with me.”

The captain scowled at the younger man.

“Son, I’ve spent my entire life on a ship. I’ve been in the sea for almost 35 years – half of them as a harbor pilot. You _don’t_ get to tell me what to do. Besides, like I said, it’s just bad weather; it’s nothing you should worry about.”

“I agree, captain; bad weather is the last thing you should worry about right now.”

Both the captain and the chief mate turned towards the voice. They watched startled two women holding each other’s arm coming through – _through?_ – the metal door, guns in their hands. The young woman with the half-shaved head stared at them with hatred, and the captain noticed strange, eerily shapes forming on her face…like tattoos.

The chief mate went for the gun he was keeping nearby. Before he managed to take a second step, Tattoo had already pulled the trigger and now he was lying dead.

The captain, watching this shell-shocked, lifted his hands in a defensive way, trying to send a non-threatening message.

He focused on the two women; he knew they were two of the mutants they were transporting with the ship. What he didn’t know was how they’d managed to reach all the way up to the bridge and him.

He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

Rogue approached slowly, lowering her gun a bit. “I think you already know the answer to these questions… _captain_ ,” she spat the last word.

The man tried to buy time, though he knew he was quickly running out of it. “How did you get out? What happened to the men-“

“That’s the least of your problems, old man,” Rogue cut him with a condescending look on her face. “I’m afraid that your retirement is going to start much sooner…in a different way you had imagined.”

The captain took a careful step backwards, pushing his back on the navigation equipment. “I’m just doing my job; what I was _ordered_ to do.”

“And that’s _exactly_ why you’re going to die!” Rogue hissed, and moved menacingly towards him.

“Wait!” the captain yelled, stretching his hands towards her as if he was trying to push her away. “ _Wait_. You can’t kill me. I’m the only one who can navigate this ship. If you shoot me, you have no chance surviving the ocean – _especially_ with that weather,” he tried to negotiate.

Rogue paused for a moment and stared at the man. Mockery was dancing in her eyes. “Then I’d better learn how to will this old junk as soon as possible.”

With two strides, she was close enough to reach a hand towards him and grasp his face.

Within seconds, the captain moaned in pain and the veins beneath his skin became apparent, while Rogue was absorbing all the knowledge and experience this man was storing for the past decades.

She drew her hand back and the man collapsed before her feet, convulsing and flailing violently, as Rogue kept her eyes closed for a second, concentrating to gain control over the new conscience that was now trapped in her mind.

Tattoo watched in awe, waiting patiently for her to have full access in the new knowledge she’d just extracted.

Rogue opened her eyes, severity across her face, like every time she took someone in. She looked at Tattoo, letting her know she was alright and ready for the next phase.

Her eyes fell on the still crashing man. Her gaze filled with loath and repulsion for these people who had no qualm in consenting to deprive from others their freedom, their humanity and, eventually, their life.

Rogue lifted the gun she held on her left hand, pointing at the captain.

“You’re _fired_ ,” she whispered through gritted teeth, and sent a bullet between his eyebrows.

……

The moment his heightened hearing caught the gunshot, he knew it was time.

 _“Vihdoin_ ,” he murmured; _finally_. Wouldn’t be too long now.

As he straightened his back, Tommy turned his head abruptly and looked at him. They hadn’t spoken for some time now and he guessed he was still pissed at him – which wasn’t a good thing, given they were going to spend several weeks on the sea together.

“What’s wrong man?” he tried to start a conversation.

The dark man growled at him and focused on the grey sky above him. He could see them now; _its lights_. It was carefully descending, without being visible yet. He braced himself for what was coming next.

“ _Drago, Puppet Master,_ ” Rogue’s voice called from the transmitter. “ _The ‘cargo’ is safe and the ship is under our control. You may proceed; and make it quick._ ”

Drago saw Puppet Master approaching fast, giving him a knowing look.

“You go deal with the other fuckers,” Drago told him. “I’ll handle this one.”

Tommy was at a loss, looking back and forth at them, not sure what was happening. Puppet Master gave a curt nod and left. When Tommy turned, the dark guy was standing right in front of him, only an inch away. _How did he come so close without seeing him?_

“Whoa, dude!” Tommy flinched and stood back a bit. “What the hell is wrong?”

Drago grabbed him from the neck and squeezed viciously, as he lifted him off the ground. Tommy’s eyes widened, looking dumbstruck while he was struggling to escape from the iron grip.

“It’s like you said, kid,” Drago snarled as his pupils turned gold and his nails started to grow longer, sinking inside the soft flesh of the boy’s throat. “ _When it comes down to it, there’s only one way to deal with that; take ‘em down before they take you_.”

And with that, his talons ripped off the young man’s windpipe.

He let the body slip from his grip, landing with a loud thud. Then, he took his coat off and threw it away, revealing a black tank top that let his muscled arms exposed.

Drago went to find his teammate, making sure nothing had gone wrong – and hopefully have some more fun – only to watch Puppet Master have the remaining six men under his control. They’d probably heard the gunshots as well and had run to the bridge; until they were stopped.

They were all holding semi-automatics – just like their buddies that kept the captured mutants in line. They’d made a circle around the mutant that held them in his mental grip. Probably his idea; Puppet Master loved to put on a good show whenever he had the chance.

As the men held their guns ready to shoot, Puppet Master, being in the center, lowered on one knee and brought his forearms to cross each other, creating an “X”. His fingers formed a gun – just like little boys do when they play “war” – in both hands, and Drago heard the cocks of the guns as the men pointed them against each other. The moment Puppet Master bent his thumps, pretending to pull an imaginary trigger, the men shot each other, falling dead by the hands of their own comrades.

Puppet Master slowly rose, and Drago let out a wild short laugh, clapping his fellow fighter, who made a small bow.

……

“ _Drago to Rogue; Ship is clear. We’re good to go._ ”

Rogue brought her hand at her right ear and nodded pleased at the outcome. “ _Excellent_ ,” she murmured. “ _You both go and help Domino bring all the mutants on the top deck. I’ll let the Blackbird know we’re ready for extraction. Clear?_ ”

“ _Copy that,_ ” Drago responded.

“ _Copy that,_ ” Domino transmitted back.

Rogue called at the X Men who waited to do their part for the final phase. “ _Storm, we’re ready for extraction; lower the Blackbird as close to the ship as you can and tell Nightcrawler to teleport the captives on the jet; I’ll keep the ship steady to make the transportation as easy as possible._ ”

The deafening clash from another thunder made Rogue look up. “ _And while we’re at it, though I appreciate the setting your powers offer us, right now I need you to tell your ‘children’ to calm down for a while._ ”

“ _Copy that_ ,” Storm responded, and Rogue made sure the ship was on hold.

A sound that seemed like a drone began to grow louder and louder, until Rogue and Tattoo leaned a bit to get a better look towards the sky.

Suddenly, the clouds seemed to move aside as the Blackbird began its descent, and the loud roar vibrated through the people that were still alive on the ship.

Storm had come out of the jet and was now hovering above it, hands wide open. Her cape was swirling violently in the air, as the white that covered her eyes everytime she summoned her powers fogged the blue of her irises.

Exerting the control she had over the weather, her fingertips released an order only the elements could hear, and the lightning that illuminated the night a moment ago, withdrawn. The clouds became sheerer and the sea was finally soothed.

Rogue watched with respect and a proud smile; she glanced at Tattoo whose face shared the same expression.

“ _Rogue, the women and the children are on the deck,_ ” Domino’s voice brought her out of her rumination.

“ _Copy that, Domino,_ ” Rogue responded, and prepared herself for the final part of the plan.

“ _Nightcrawler, you may begin the transportation,_ ” she instructed. “ _And please try to be as quick as possible._ ”

“ _Copy that,_ ” the blue teleporter said, and Rogue turned to Tattoo.

“I need you to go there too; make sure everything will be ok.”

Tattoo gave her an incredulous look. “What the hell are you talking about? The entire crew is dead and gone and there are three of us with the women and children.”

Rogue shook her head. “We can never be too safe. Drago, Domino and Puppet Master are strong and able, but they have to keep 15 mutants at bay. What if something goes off and people begin to panic? They still have the inhibitor collars on, but God knows when they might break down and in what way. That’s why I was hesitant about the removal of the collars before we got back. What if someone snaps and loses control? That’s why I need you to be down there with the rest; ensure that everyone will get on the jet safely.”

Tattoo thought about it. “Ok,” she agreed. “You do have a point. What about you?”

“I’ll keep the ship steady until everyone’s on the jet. Once you’re done, I’ll start the engines and take the ship in the middle of the storm our weather lady will create for me.”

Tattoo stared at her like she had lost her mind. “Are you fuckin’ crazy? You’re gonna lead the ship in the middle of a storm? A storm made by _Storm herself_? What are you trying to do, kill yourself?”

“I’ll be fine,” Rogue reassured her. “I’ll make it out of here in time, you know I can. We can’t risk leaving any trails behind, Tattoo. This must be registered as an accident. The world will never know what really happened, but the ones who need to get the message, will receive it loud and clear. Being sloppy is not an option. Now go,” she finished, not leaving room for any more arguments.

“Rogue-” Tattoo began to say.

“ _Go!_ ” Rogue snapped at her, and Tattoo flinched at the tone of her voice.

“Now,” she said in a calmer way, as if she was chiding a child she was deeply fond of.

Tattoo let out a heavy breath and shook her head in compliance. She turned around and phased through the door, leaving in the same way she’d entered. 

Rogue waited patiently as Kurt was teleporting everyone on the Blackbird, until she heard Storm’s voice in her ear. “ _Rogue; everyone’s on the jet. Time for you to come as well._ ”

“ _Not yet Storm; there’s one last thing left to do._ ”

Storm knew what she was talking about, but she didn’t like the idea. “ _Rogue; what if you don’t get out in time? I cannot stop the lightning once it is unleashed._ ”

“ _I know; don’t worry about me. I can make it,_ ” Rogue answered, conviction lacing her voice. “ _Let’s do this, weather goddess._ ”

Ororo shut her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply; when she opened them again, authority filled her every move as she summoned the tempest again.

Rogue started the engines and guided the ship straight into the sea storm the mistress of the elements was rising. She could see the clouds spitting thunder and lightning in anger again, the wind’s moaning turning into a howl, and the sea becoming harder and harder for her to ride. She braced herself, and went straight into the eye of the storm.

……

Ororo watched the ship climbing the constantly rising waves as it approached the center of the chaos nature was generating for her sake. Her heart began to thud as she watched it crushing by the water and getting dispatched by the lightning that carved the metal. The ship’s carcass began its descent into the depths of the ocean, to keep its secret safe from the rest of the world. 

When it was done, Storm asked for the weather to calm again and allow everyone a safe journey back home. While she was landing in the secure confinement of the Blackbird, she felt a heavy load press down her chest. _Had she made it?_

She entered the cockpit, where Tattoo and Jubilee were keeping the jet steady until she was done, witnessing the whole thing breathless. Both of them turned and looked at Storm with wide eyes and a blend of awe and admiration.

She looked back at them, aware of what their silence was asking, but she had no response. The mayhem that came from all the thundering and lightning had caused communication problems. They’d lost Rogue’s signal the moment she had entered the storm, and they couldn’t be sure if she’d managed to get out in time.

The look in Tattoo’s eyes turned from worry to anger, as Jubilee lowered her eyes on the instruments and Ororo was staring numbly into the horizon.

“That’s bullshit!” Tattoo exclaimed. “She ain’t a suicider and she’s more than capable surviving anything!” She got roughly out of the pilot’s seat she was placed until Storm returned to take over.

As she stomped out of the cockpit, Tattoo turned to glare at the two women who were looking at her. “And if she _wanted_ to kill herself, she would’ve found a more discreet way to do it! She ain’t a show-off; she fuckin’ hates drama.”

Storm and Jubilee focused on returning back to the Mansion. They let quiet settle between them, until Jubilee’s restless nature brought them out of their dimness.

“I called her after the ship went down; she didn’t respond,” she informed Ororo quietly. “Did you see her coming out?”

Storm’s neck stretched and her lips pursed. “There was too much lightning. As charged as the weather was, it made it really hard to maintain the visual contact.” 

Jubilee looked at her with a solemn expression. Ororo shared her feelings, but chose to accept Tattoo’s reprimand as utterly justified. “I’m quite certain she’s somewhere in the back helping the women and children,” she concluded, and concentrated on flying as far away from that part of the ocean as possible.

……

Tattoo went straight to Kurt who was offering food and blankets to the women and children they’d just saved. “Where is she?” she asked immediately.

Drago, Domino and Puppet Master being close enough to hear, approached to see what was going on.

Kurt seemed a bit lost. “What do you mean? She’s not in there with you?” he asked in a low voice, looking at the cockpit.

Tattoo sighed loudly. “We lost comms right before the cargo ship went down. We’re not sure…”

A loud growl came from Drago, and Puppet Master placed a hand on his shoulder, asking him to calm down. Domino shook her head. “I told her _I_ should be the one to do this.”

Suddenly, one of the young girls sitting a little further stood up and approached them. “Excuse me?” she said and everyone turned to look at her. Tattoo recognized the girl as the one the guard was about to rape; Wendy.

“Are you talking about the woman with the white streaks? The one who stopped the guard from…” she paused and looked down. Kurt gave her a look of compassion.

She raised her head again and continued, concern lacing her voice. “Did something happen to her? Is she alright?”

“I’m fine,” Rogue’s steady voice came from behind, and they all whipped their heads to see her approaching.

Tattoo closed the distance between them and hugged her fiercely. She let her after a few seconds and gave her a shove. “What the hell was _that_? Where have you been? We couldn’t reach you after the ship went down!”

Rogue, who was caught off guard from the hug, grinned at her friend’s worry and rebuke. “Sorry about that; too much electricity from the storm for the transmitter to survive. I made sure the damned thing kept going before I got out,” she explained.

“Jesus, Rogue, was that really necessary?” Domino asked irritated.

“Well you know what they say, Domino; the captain always abandons ship last,” Rogue joked in an effort to lighten the atmosphere.

“Fuckin’ funny,” Drago growled, as Kurt and Puppet Master gave her a stern look each.

“Sorry guys. Didn’t mean to scare you. I was in the cargo bay, tryin’ to pull myself together. Everything ok here?”

At that moment Wendy approached, and Rogue gave her a tender smile. “Are you alright?”

The girl reached out and gave her a hug. Rogue placed her hands hesitantly on her back, surprised and _moved_ by her reaction. First Tattoo and now this girl; it wasn’t everyday she had so much physical contact. The fear for her skin didn’t allow much. Then again, the girl was completely oblivious about her powers, and Tattoo was as crazy and incautious as Rogue was.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Wendy said with a trembling voice, and Rogue tried to soothe the still shaken girl with a light pat.

“No need,” she said calmly and pulled herself back, feeling uncomfortable with such open expression of gratitude. “Besides, I wasn’t alone. These people here helped just as much to make sure you would all be safe.”

Wendy turned to the other X Men and thanked them, as the rest of the women and children did.

She turned to Rogue again as doubt flitted across her face. “Uh…how did you get here? The man who teleported us inside the plane was here with us the whole time…if you were in the ship a moment ago, how did you get up here so fast?”

Rogue stared at her and then her teammates; the less people knew about her, the better.

She shook her head and smirked. “I have my ways,” she said enigmatically.

Watching the wave of questions beginning to rise in the girl’s eyes, Rogue decided it was time to go find Storm and let these people get some rest. It had been a long night, and it wasn’t over yet.

“I’ll be in the cockpit if you need me,” she said to her team, and with a gentle caress on the girl’s hair and an assuring smile to the rest, she left.

……

“Jubilee,” Rogue called her petite Asian friend.

Both Storm and Jubilee had heard Rogue’s voice when she came back. Storm had closed her eyes in relief and had let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Jubilee, always far more expressive to her reactions, landed a hand on her chest and let out a groan that showed her frustration; and that Rogue was in trouble.

“Aw shit, chica you do that again and I’m gonna sparkle your ass into oblivion!” she yelled as Rogue approached and landed a hand on her shoulder. Jubilee grabbed it and squeezed it hard.

“What the hell happened?” she demanded.

“Nothing. Everything went exactly as we planned. My transmitter didn’t make it though; let’s just call it ‘collateral damage’.”

“It wasn’t the only thing that _almost_ became ‘collateral damage’,” Storm interjected.

Rogue peered at her. She knew she wasn’t gonna get away with it so easily. “Jubilee,” she turned to her friend. “Could you please go and help the others with the women and children? They need someone with your energy right now,” Rogue suggested.

“Dude, what do you think I am, a battery or something? ‘Sides, I know you want me to leave so you can try to convince the goddess here not to scorch your binary hair.”

“I’m glad I’m that transparent to you. That means I don’t have to explain myself, _and_ that you’ll give me your seat to go back with the others without arguing anymore.”

Jubilee looked at Rogue. It was quite obvious she was trying to lighten the mood, but this time it wasn’t working.

“And I meant what I said before, sugar,” Rogue insisted. “These people have been through hell; they _do_ need some with your ‘spark’, if you know what I mean.”

Jubilee winked at Rogue and nodded. “Gotcha,” she said and got up from her seat. As Rogue was replacing her to the co-pilot position, she turned to Storm.

“Go easy on her, ‘Ro. You know how it is for Roguey; better _her_ neck on the line, than any of ours. That doesn’t change – no matter how much we hate it.”

When they were left alone, Rogue buckled up and set her eyes straight ahead. “Any news from Colossus?”

Storm gave a curt nod. “They managed to infiltrate the main lab in San Francisco without being detected – thanks to Shadowcat. X Force managed to extract all the mutants and destroy the facility completely.”

“Perfect,” Rogue monologued. “And Avalanche?”

“His team succeeded intercepting the company’s trucks after they left New York’s harbor in order to continue the distribution of mutants to other harbors of the country. Pyro’s flame took them out of commission for good.”

“Good,” Rogue whispered. “That triple hit will send the right message to all those who want to make a fortune out of mutants’ death and suffering.”

Storm gave no response. Rogue glanced at the white haired woman next to her from the corner of her eye.

She knew Storm wasn’t pleased with the risk she’d taken. She and the weather witch had clashed several times over that matter. Ororo never seemed willing to jeopardize the life and safety of any of the X Men. Rogue on the other hand had no qualms about it when it came to herself; and that made her teammates and Storm infuriated.

Rogue focused on the sky in front of her, enjoying the peaceful view. She loved being up here. Unlike the ground, it was serene and quiet.

The first time she was the pilot, she was terrified; she didn’t know if she could make it. To have the control of a jet so big seemed impossible in her inexperienced mind – even though she had managed to fly it once without any knowledge, at Alkali Lake. But with the guidance and encouragement of Storm, she’d become confident enough to fly the Blackbird with her eyes closed. She was one of the X Men’s best pilots thanks to her training and the knowledge she’d absorbed from other people over the years. Still, she hated to be dependent on the skills and talents of the ones she’d touched, so everytime a new ability was added in her arsenal, she practiced it enough until she was sure she owned it; with or without her powers.

She let the silence between her and Ororo remain. She was going to give her as much time as she needed to speak her mind. She deserved it.

“That was a reckless thing you did down there,” Storm said in a cold tone, and Rogue prepared herself for another of their usual arguments.

“I had to stay long enough to send out a distress signal, to make the ‘accident’ more believable,” she pointed out calmly. “Plus, I had to make sure it would seem as the captain was trying to keep the ship from going straight into the storm in case SatPro was tracking it; The Blackbird cannot be detected, but I’ve done my homework and I can assure you that this cargo ship had a satellite tracking device. Typical demand by insurance companies.”

Storm turned to her. “You think Transigen would allow for a thorough investigation to take place?”

“I _know_ Transigen does nothing without making sure the company won’t lose profit or any of its benefits. Why do you think they use cargo ships to transfer mutants, Storm – bulk carriers in particular?”

Ororo frowned, not quite grasping the whole picture. “I’m sensing some deliberate elusivity here?”

Rogue gave her a Cheshire smile. “Not unreasonably. Information like the one I’m about to share with you was not included in the briefings.”

Storm waited for her to give the details, as she handed the control of the jet to the auto-pilot. This was going to be a long and challenging conversation.

“Bulk carriers are specifically designed to transport mostly unpackaged bulk cargos – like _grain_ for example,” Rogue said, emphasizing the word “grain” and giving Storm a knowing look.

The weather witch stared at Rogue for a long moment. Since she didn’t vocalize any of the thoughts that were swirling in her mind, Rogue continued.

“Transigen tries to display an image of a company that fights against hunger and famine – especially in poor countries – by shipping grains and other supplies for free, with the cooperation and help from Trask Industries – another ‘kind-hearted’ company whose primary concern is the world’s ‘prosperity’. While the entire world’s attention is turned to that aspect and praise them for their ‘consideration’ and ‘compassion’ towards the people of Africa – among other countries – they manage to transfer another ‘sensitive’ merchandise that helps them earn the money they lose from their ‘charity work’.”

Rogue paused and watched the wheels in Storm’s mind spinning, getting closer to the answer. “What does that have to do with the type of ship they’re using?”

“Bulk carriers range in size; from single-hold mini-bulk carriers to mammoth ore ships able to carry 400,000 metric tons of deadweight. A number of specialized designs exist: some can unload their own cargo, some depend on port facilities for unloading, and some even package the cargo as it is loaded. On bulk carriers, crew is involved in operation management and maintenance of the vessel taking care of safety, navigation, maintenance and cargo care. Cargo loading operations vary in complexity and loading, and discharging of cargo can take several days; which means that the crew has enough time to smuggle the ‘mutant cargo’ they’re shipping to eastern countries – and sometimes Europe – to be sold in mutant slave markets.”

Ororo’s eyes flashed as Rogue kept adding pieces to the puzzle.

“Bulk cargo can be very dense, corrosive, or abrasive. This can present safety problems: cargo shifting – _especially_ when grain cargo is transferred – can cause spontaneous combustion and cargo saturation. The use of ships that are old and have corrosion problems was linked to a spate of bulk carrier sinkings back in the 1990s. And as you saw yourself Storm, the ship that transferred the people we saved was a piece of junk. Now, why do you think was that?”

“In case the ‘cargo’s’ nature was at risk of being exposed and the company’s name was compromised, they could easily sink the ship and call it an accident; that way their secret would be safe, their connection in this matter with Trask industries would stay in the shadows, _and_ they would collect the insurance money, making up for the loss of the ‘cargo’,” Ororo said stunned by the revelation.

“Exactly,” Rogue verified. “And given that a bulk carrier typically consists a crew of 20 to 30 people and small bulk carriers can actually be handled by 8, makes it even more convenient to keep the whole transportation under the radar, by having a handful of venal jerks with sailing and/or military experience run the ship – in exchange of a respectable amount of money of course.”

Storm shook her head in repugnance. “Goddess…” she murmured.

“That’s how I know Transigen won’t make a big fuss about it. If it was just the captive mutants no one would give a damn; but now that the crew is gone, they won’t dare to involve the authorities – or anyone else for that matter. Sending out a distress signal will be used as a proof that the ship got caught in the middle of an unexpected sea storm; Transigen will have their insurance money, the world won’t know about our intervention – which would jeopardize the fragile truce between humans and mutants until Erik and the Professor come up with a more permanent solution –, the mutants we saved will be transferred in places where they can live safely, and Transigen/Trask alliance will get a taste of what will come to them if they keep up with this ‘mutant policy’ of theirs,” Rogue finished.

Ororo remained silent, watching Rogue with clouded eyes. She understood why Rogue was so passionate and determined when it came to such missions, but she still couldn’t accept the sacrifices she was willing to make.

Unbuckling her seat belt, she turned her seat towards her. “I can see why you are so intent on bringing Transigen and Trask down…but that is not an excuse to jeopardize your life, Rogue,” Storm said quietly.

Rogue shrugged and turned to the weather witch as well. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Besides, I knew I’d make it out of there in time.”

“You can never be all that certain; you never know what can go wrong,” Storm insisted.

“If the X Men were only going on missions with 0% compromise, Ororo, then we’d never leave the Mansion,” Rogue pointed out. 

“It’s one thing to go on a mission with a high risk and a completely different thing to put yourself in grave danger in every single one of them,” she objected.

“I just explained why I had to take that chance. Why are we still talking about this?” Rogue asked, looking a bit on edge.

“Because I believe there must have been another way to guide the ship into the storm without risking your life; and I begin to suspect that the reason you didn’t mention any of this information about the ship and your decision to send it into the storm yourself is because you knew I would object strongly to it.”

“You’re not wrong about that,” Rogue admitted. “I knew you and some of the other team members would react, so I decided it would be best for all of us to be discreet about this part of the mission.”

“That was not discretion, Rogue. You kept a vital part of the mission hidden from the other team members – including _me_ ,” Storm scolded.

“There wasn’t enough time for an argument,” Rogue insisted. “Besides, what other option was there?”

“Perhaps Kitty would be able-“

“ _Perhaps_? Would that be good enough? A chance that Kitty _might_ be able to do something? And what about her? We were running out of time and she was working on this mission for _days_ ; she was under a lot of pressure, more than the usual. She might be a computer wonder child, but that doesn’t mean she’s immune to exhaustion.”

“That does not negate the fact that your secrecy was dangerous, Rogue,” Storm chided.

Rogue gave the weather goddess a hard stare; the next words came out through gritted teeth. “I would _never_ risk the safety or life of one of my teammates.”

“I am aware of _that_ ,” Ororo returned. “All too well. I’m not reprimanding you for jeopardizing the mission or your team; I’m upset because you compromised _yourself_.”

Rogue tried to remain calm. “I don’t mind, as long as the rest of the team stays safe and missions are successful.”

“This is _exactly_ what I’m talking about! You throw yourself into the heat of battle without caring if you’re gonna make it out alive!” Storm said in a stronger note.

Rogue shrugged apathetically. “Every army needs a powerhouse; in our case, we’ve been without a spearhead for too long. Someone needs to do what most can’t. Or won’t.”

Storm sighed exasperated. “Goddess, child you sound just like _him_!”

At this, Rogue’s head jerked up. Her lips were a thin line. “I’m _nothing_ like him,” she hissed, well aware of whom Storm was talking about.

The weather witch huffed and gave her a knowing look. “I’m not talking about the way he left. You never abandoned us. Even after you were forced to leave because of the way you were treated at the Mansion. On this aspect, you two are completely different. But when he was here, he was always the one willing to do the dirty job, be at the front so he could take all the hits, counteracting all the attacks so we would be safe; staining his hands, so we wouldn’t stain ours. I don’t want you to be like that. Like Logan.”

Rogue smiled bitterly. “It’s a little late for that. I am what I am. I don’t mind, as long as it keeps others away from the worst. I can take the pain.”

“Just because you can, it does not mean you should.” Storm’s eyes sparked in anger and let her frustration out. “You act like you are expendable!”

“That’s what I was trained for, remember? Besides, you worry too much for no reason; I know how valuable my powers are. I intend to stay alive long enough to use them to our advantage,” Rogue assured her.

Storm’s eyes scorched in anger; “Do not speak like you are a means to an end!”

“But I am. I _am_ a means to an end. Don’t act like the upgrade of my powers hasn’t played a large role to my acceptance by the team and our mutant ‘ _brothers’_.”

“It hasn’t for me or the people who care about you. And they are _plenty_.”

Rogue snorted. “Pity they weren’t so willing to show me that when I was just ‘the girl with the poisonous skin’,” she muttered bitterly.

Storm looked at her with regret. She could see why Rogue was feeling like that. With her power of absorption and her control out of reach, it was always hard for her to fit in. When the cure had come and she’d chosen to take it, things got even worse. The young girl was ostracized completely, and Storm could tell she’d never been able to leave that behind.

“Rogue, child,” she said in a tender tone, “I’m sorry. You are right. Things have been really hard for you and I, as well as the students at the Mansion, made a lot of mistakes. We were supposed to make you feel welcomed and accepted and yet we failed. It was never my intention for things to happen the way they did, and I resent that after all these years you still think that the only reason we want you alive and well is because you’re a tool for the cause. Because you’re _not_.”

Rogue shook her head in disbelief. “Words…” was all she said.

Storm was disheartened. “You’ve hardened, Rogue; you became strong, powerful, capable of incredible things. But I cannot believe the young girl you once were is not still somewhere in there,” the weather witch said with hope.

“Don’t say it like it would be a good thing, Ororo; there’s a reason I keep what’s left of her locked up. She was weak. Always ready to run, always more inclined to hide than do something about her hardships. Whatever happened to her, she brought it on herself; she _deserved_ it,” Rogue responded angrily.

Storm flinched, stunned by the poison she spat. She’d seen people who had survived hardships like Rogue dwell in anger and self-loath before – part of the PTSD they suffered – but she was always reluctant to believe they had permeated the young woman so deeply.

“Rogue,” Ororo pleaded. “That is not true-“

“Storm,” Rogue looked at her tired, giving away her resign. “We’ve been through this over and over again. There’s no point and you know it. Now, I understand that missions like that always take their toll on you, but struggling to make me see the glass half-full, or whatever, doesn’t help any.”

“What do you mean?” Storm asked.

Rogue sighed. “I can tell how much you despise the way things have been done for the past four years; you loathe hatred and abuse against mutants as much as I do, but it’s quite obvious that you prefer the X Men’s old, less violent, methods than the radical ones we have to use now.”

The weather goddess remained silent and Rogue could see she was struggling. Storm was a force to be reckoned with and her powers were as devastating. But even so, taking lives was never something she cherished.

“You didn’t kill them, Ororo,” Rogue’s voice snapped her out of her contemplation. “They were already dead long before they were buried in the sea. You sank a ship with no life on it; no reason to burden yourself with guilt.”

“And you?” Storm asked.

“What about me?” Rogue’s eyes narrowed.

“Are you going to rid yourself from guilt eventually?” she challenged.

Rogue stiffened and Ororo noticed her hands flexing. “I have no reason to feel guilt.” She turned her head abruptly and stared at the white haired woman. “They were evil men, Ororo. They knew _exactly_ what they were signing up for. They earned the death they had.”

Storm wasn’t fooled. “And yet I see what delivering ‘justice’ does to you. You can’t hide from me, Rogue; maybe those were evil men that deserved what they got, but you’re not. You’re not wicked or heartless, like you try to show. And every time you return from a mission – especially the ones the Professor sends you – I see the telltale signs of a kind soul severely traumatized.”

Rogue tried to find a response. No one knew what kind of “missions” the Professor sent her to, but Ororo was not obtuse. She had an idea of what was taking place during these secret ops, but Rogue was not willing to share their true nature with anyone.

“I do what needs to be done. I’m the most suitable for it – from my training to my mutation, no one can pull through as effectively as I can. I’m the perfect candidate.”

“If you truly were the ‘perfect candidate’, you wouldn’t suffer so much,” Storm insisted.

“Maybe. But I made that choice long time ago and I’m sticking to it. No matter the cost, I _will_ walk the line all the way.”

“Why? What makes you think you deserve this?” Ororo asked, anger rising within her.

“It’s not about what I deserve, Storm,” Rogue looked behind her, and Ororo followed her gaze to the women and children they had saved earlier. Some of them were dozing off and others seemed as if they were ruminating, but all of them were calm; and safe.

“It’s about them; what _they_ deserve. And none of them deserves a place in the labs or slavery. I swore long time ago that I’d do everything in my powers to never let anyone go through what I did. And everytime a facility gets destroyed, everytime we save a life and a face looks at me with gratitude and relief for ending the nightmare, I know it was all worth it; they all _worth_ it.”

Storm watched her moved. The Rogue in front of her was filled with fire and passion, wrapped in iron will and resoluteness; and yet the 17 year old girl she’d saved long time ago on a snowy road had managed to survive the burn and steel that had scorched her soul and she was still standing. With a sense of pride for her former student and a soft smile, she reached out and caressed her gloved hand tenderly.

“And here I was, thinking that the young girl with the benevolent heart I’ve picked up several years ago didn’t exist anymore.”

Rogue smiled back at her shyly, giving the weather witch the chance to see again the green hooded teenager she kept so carefully hidden.

“Doesn’t hurt to let her out to catch a breath from time to time, I guess,” she tried to look indifferent.

Storm’s smile widened knowingly, and Rogue squeezed affectionately her hand in response. “Let’s go home, weather goddess,” she offered, and both women returned to their flying duties, guiding the Blackbird back to the Mansion, as it ripped through the starry night that lead their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few information about some of the mutants presented in this chapter:
> 
> Domino is the comic book Domino, though there will be slight differences in her character.
> 
> Tattoo is a character that appears briefly in DutchXfan's fic "Yellow Brick Road". DutchXfan was the first Rogan author i was introduced to, and her stories made me look for more Rogan fics. Tattoo is not a fleshed out character in DutchXfan's story, but i decided to use her and expand her role in my fic as a nod and a thank you to this wonderful author.
> 
> Puppet Master was inspired by one of the mutant children that appeared in the movie "Logan".
> 
> Drago was inspired by the characters Drogo and Aquaman played by Jason Momoa. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	4. Old score settled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you to Englishmajor226 for her beta, her valuable advice and support
> 
> When i began writing this story, i knew that i needed to address what had taken place between Rogue and Magneto on the Statue of Liberty. We never saw what kind of impact this incident had on her, and the fact that the only mention about it was a small scene in X2 where Magneto mocks Rogue about her hair while she attempts to intimidate him by taking of her glove only for Bobby to interfere and take her away, didn't do it for me.  
> Luckily, a couple of years ago i stumbled upon an amazing fic called "A means to an End" by RogueLotus. In one of the first chapters, there was this incredible conversation between Rogue and Magneto about Liberty Island and the way it affected Rogue's life. I was so mesmerized and inspired by this particular chapter, it made me wonder how Rogue of my story would react if she had the chance to face Magneto. This chapter is the result of that thought. 
> 
> Here's the playlist that assisted my muse while i was making this chapter  
> •Seven devils – Florence and the machine  
> •From the past – Two Steps From Hell  
> •I am what I am – Doro  
> •Castle – Halsey  
> •Until it sleeps – Metallica  
> •Gotham's Reckoning/Bane's theme – Hans Zimmer/TDKR OST  
> •See what I’ve become – Zack Hemsey  
> •A small measure of peace – Hans Zimmer

She lifted her head with closed eyes, allowing the wind to play with her hair. The cold breeze kissed her cheeks softly, coloring them with a pink shade. She inhaled deeply and opened her eyes again slowly.

It was one of her favorite “rituals”. Taking a walk around the Mansion’s garden at dusk, and then settling in the little pond she’d discovered years ago, when she’d first come at the school and needed a place to be away from everyone and everything. After her return, the Mansion’s veranda at late night hours – when everyone had retired – had become another favored spot to dwell in thoughts and indulge in solitude.

She welcomed the wind chill that kept growing cooler as the night’s blackness spread. She tightened her sea green pashmina shawl around her, and the golden leaves it was embroidered with sparkled in the soft glow of the led outdoor lights. She wasn’t really cold, but she liked how the fabric felt on her skin, and the sense of security it gave her. It reminded her of her childhood, when she used to wrap her blanket around her small frame everytime she felt intimidated by the dark.

She let her mind roam freely like that, from past to future and then back to present; she allowed herself to loosen up, toning down the constant awareness of her surroundings.

It wasn’t until she felt his presence that she realized this was a mistake.

“Splendid night, isn’t it, my dear?” Erik offered as he was approaching from behind.

Rogue closed her eyes as if she was in pain and huffed in frustration; she wasn’t going to enjoy some quiet time after all.

“It _was_ ,” she pointed out, as she kept her stare at the vast acreage of green.

Erik came and stood next to her, placing his hands on the railings. He suspected he’d receive such reaction.

“I am sorry I’m upsetting your personal time; I merely hoped we could have a private conversation, you and I,” he suggested.

Rogue looked at him suspiciously. “What is it you and I have to talk about?”

“I’d say quite plenty,” Erik said, and shook his head to emphasize his words.

Both her eyebrows raised in mild irony. “I'm dying to hear.”

Erik knew that Rogue was aware of what he was talking about. He was also aware that she was going to pretend ignorance to make it more challenging for him.

She was not happy with his staying here and she had made it clear to him – and Charles – from the first moment he’d set foot on this place. It wouldn’t be his first option either, but from the way things had gone, none of them had much of a choice anymore.

Assuming that her youth would never allow her to offer an olive branch first, he decided to be the one to make this step. He had assured Charles he would do his best not to offend her feelings about what had taken place at Liberty Island. Given her demonstration of power and skills the night he was transferred to the Mansion, he wasn’t planning to make that mistake _ever_ again.

He took some time to observe her – not for the first time since he saw her again. The image of the young frightened girl she once was came forth to his mind; a lost child, unable to control her remarkable gift, crying and pleading for her life, incapable of understanding the importance of her sacrifice.

He compared that adolescent with the young woman standing before him, emanating an air of power and danger. There was a tremendous contrast between who she was and who she’d become, that was for certain. Erik had very little knowledge about what had happened to her ever since that fateful night on the Statue of Liberty, but as a survivor himself, he knew how to read the signs of trauma and desolation in one’s eyes; and he knew how they molded one’s character too.

“Before I begin to say what I came here to say, let me congratulate you as well for planning and executing the mission so successfully-” 

“I heard that speech an hour ago,” Rogue cut him. “And from a man I appreciate; the Professor has been doing this for years, so whatever congratulatory rhetoric you want to give me, I doubt it will be as good as his.”

Erik could hear the blankness in the tone of her voice and noticed the neutral expression she had masked herself with. That always gave away so much more about her thoughts and feelings for a person or a situation; and he was quite certain she was aware of it.

“Besides,” she kept on, “you were there yourself. And you know that whenever the Professor gives such speeches, you’re always included – not that it would matter to me if you felt satisfied from the missions’ results or not,” she added with indifference. “But he sees you as an ally, and there’s truce between the two of you now; so, as long as this status quo continues to exist – no matter how much I object to it – I’ll continue to respect it.

Anyway, enough with this,” Rogue said, growing impatient. “You know your presence is not pleasant. Skip whatever prologue you prepared and get to the point. What do you want?”

Erik nodded. He couldn’t stop himself from having a sense of respect towards her. When he’d abducted her, what he saw was a terrified child and a necessary means to an end; someone expendable. Seeing her now like this, standing her ground, confident in herself, made him realize once more how terribly wrong he’d been about her.

“You are right, ” he consented. “We both know that there is no easy way of doing this, so I might as well begin. There is only one thing I want to ask you, if I may.”

“I’m listening,” Rogue spurred him on.

“Allow me to finish what I want to say before you respond in whatever way you choose to.”

Rogue stared at him for a long moment, contemplating if she was willing to go through with this, until she finally gave an infinitesimal nod with her head.

“Fair enough,” she agreed.

“I understand if this will seem pointless to you…” Erik paused for a second to add more gravity to his words. “But I wanted to apologize for everything that happened six years ago.”

Rogue stared at him for a long minute. She then shook her head and let out an ironic laugh – indicate of her bitterness about that pivotal moment of her life.

Erik halted, but seeing the young woman turning her attention back to him, he realized she didn’t intent to stop him from finishing what he started.

“I, by all means, do not intend to sound condescending. But I want you to believe me when I tell you that I do not blame you for your mistrust and negation to accept my words as honest. What took place between us back then, everything I’ve done that made you suffer…was never personal; nor I ever had the desire to cause you pain intentionally. You happened to be an essential part of a plan that aimed to set us all free once and for all from human threat; the fact that you had to lose your life during the process was utterly unfortunate.

Back then I believed there was no other way for this to happen. I will not lie to you by saying I regret what I did, because that would mean I repent fighting for the survival and prosperity of our kind by any means necessary; and I don’t. But I am truly sorry _you_ had to be the one to pay such heavy price.”

Rogue lowered her eyes, seemingly thinking about what she’d just heard. None of them spoke for a while, and Erik wondered what her verdict would be.

“Are you done?” she asked quietly after a while.

“Yes,” he answered. “Thank you for listening to me. And if there is something you wish to say, I am ready to hear it.”

Rogue took a step closer. “That was a very beautiful speech. It seems like it almost came from the heart. I believe what you said – that I was just a means to an end and nothing more; that there were no hard feelings, nothing ‘personal’, towards me when you were strapping me to your machine, forcing me to take _your_ place. If anything, that would mean that I was actually something more to you than just a tool – a _thing_ you needed for your cause, so you could have a way out; it would mean I held some kind of importance as a _person_ – or at least as a _mutant_. And the truth is I didn’t.”

Erik realized where this was heading and tried to object. “My dear, that is not-“

Rogue lifted a bare hand to him to make him stop. At the sight of naked skin, the powerful man seemed to cower and stared at the woman before him with something that looked very much like apprehension.

“I let you finish what you wanted to say,” she said in a harsh tone. “Now it’s your turn.”

“Yes, of course,” he rushed to say.

Rogue lowered her hand and continued.

“The problem, Erik, is that if things had gone according to your plan six years ago, this confession would have never come from you. If you hadn’t been forced to be here, forging a fragile alliance with the Professor because the world has gone to hell, if I wasn’t who I am now… this conversation would’ve never happened. Your apology is nothing more than another way to secure your safety and survival. You said it yourself; you have no regrets about the things you’ve done – and I’m sure there’s going to be _no_ remorse from you for the things you might have to do in the future. You’re not the kind of man who seeks absolution, Erik; not even from the ones you intentionally wronged.”

Erik kept his stare at her, trying to look as calm as he always seemed to be, no matter the circumstances.

“You are right. I’m not the kind of man who’s looking for redemption, that is true. But I’m not the monster you think I am either. Like I told you back then, your sacrifice was necessary for our survival. Yet, that sacrifice was not taken lightly by me, as you assume. When I apologized to you while I was giving you my powers, I meant it.”

“You weren’t giving me your powers,” Rogue whispered angrily. “You _forced_ them on me! You hunted me down, drugged me and took me against my will! And then you tied me on that damn machine _you_ were supposed to power up, so you could live and celebrate your victory! If you were really so devoted to save our mutant ‘brothers and sisters’ at any cost, then you should’ve been ready to make sacrifices as well, Erik! Not demand them from everyone else, while you were watching from a distance! That’s not what a true leader does!” her voice was filled with loath.

Erik took a deep breath and tried to make her see things from his perspective. “A true leader is one who can make hard choices, Rogue. Someone who’s willing to do whatever it takes for his people not only to survive, but also to _thrive_. Had I been the one charging the machine, there would have been no one left to guide our kind on the right path.”

Rogue chortled. “I suppose an extremist like you could never consider Charles Xavier capable enough for this.”

Erik’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Charles is a visionary; a man who has dedicated his life to the prosperity of our kind.” He hesitated for a moment before he completed his sentence. “Yet, I’m afraid he’s not one to make difficult decisions and act on them.”

“So your attempt to kill him – _twice_ – was just an essential part of your plan for the sake of the ‘cause’; and ‘nothing personal’ either,” Rogue sneered.

Erik felt himself running out of patience. “I’ve come here to make amends about my actions towards you. _Not_ to explain myself about my past choices.”

Rogue’s eyes narrowed. “Fair enough,” she relented. “Let’s go back to me. You come after all these years to tell me you’re sorry you forced me to have a violent death so you could live and lead the mutant kind. Correct?”

Erik released a weary sigh. “I wouldn’t put it in such harsh words, but I’ll admit that this is what happened.”

“And I’m supposed to accept your apology, leave all this behind and see you as an ally from now on. Correct?”

“It would be very fortunate if you managed; but I will not blame you if you cannot. I just wanted to settle this matter, and the only way to do it was by making an effort for you to see that behind my actions was never malice or animosity towards you.” He opened his hands in resignation. “I’m afraid there is nothing more beyond that which I can do to convince you about it.”

Rogue watched him warily. She let silence settle between them before she spoke again.

“Tell me something, Erik,” she said, and he looked at her with interest.

“If the men who made you suffer came to you and asked you to forgive them…would you do it?”

Erik’s eyes blazed in anger and his usually placid voice hardened. “This has nothing to do with our conversation,” he warned.

“Oh, but it does! It has _everything_ to do with what happened at Liberty Island,” Rogue pressed.

Erik’s jaw tightened and Rogue could tell she was pushing too far, but she wasn’t going to stop. He’d come here to pretend regret, just because he was aware of what her powers could do now. If the girl she once was, was now in front of him, he’d probably surpass her without giving her a single glance, considering her an inferior mutant – as he once did. Now, it was too late for apologies. His appearance of a weary old man, bearing the marks of his past trials on his face, didn’t fool her. She knew how powerful he was; how far he was willing to go. And she had no doubt that he’d have no qualms to sacrifice her once more, had that meant he’d win the war against the humans once and for all.

Erik struggled to keep his composure. The youngling mutant was going further than she could handle.

“Careful, _child_. You tread on a path you should never dare to,” he said in a low menacing voice.

“You’re in no position to threaten me, _old man_ ,” Rogue hissed. “You have no power over me anymore. The day you passed your gift to me was the day I became your equal. I didn’t know it back then, but I am aware of it now. You can never hurt me again. To you, I’m untouchable in _every_ way.”

Erik gritted his teeth. He knew it was the truth, and that disturbed him even more. “That does not give you the right to speak of things you have no idea about,” he closed the distance between them even more.

She offered him an arrogant smile. “That’s where you’re wrong, Erik; I know _exactly_ what I’m talking about! I know all about your life. The Holocaust; the concentration camps; the exterminations; your powers manifesting…your inability to save your mother.”

Erik gave her a menacing look, fighting to retain his self-control. His fists clenched and she felt his power thrumming through her.

Rogue’s rage began to pour out. _At last_. After all this time, _Magneto_ was finally resurfacing. The man that had turned the current of her life in such fateful way was now coming out to face her.

“Whatever Charles told you about my life-“

“Charles told me nothing!” Rogue said with force. “After everything he’s done for you, you think he’d betray you like this! He would _never_ share your past with anyone for _no_ reason!” she rebuked him.

At this, Magneto seemed to calm a bit and frowned at her. His anger was now mixed with surprise; and shame.

“Besides,” Rogue continued, “he didn’t need to tell me anything. I already knew.”

Erik was stunned for a long moment, until it eventually was replaced by curiosity. “How is that possible?”

Rogue tapped gently at her temple with her index. But instead of giving the answers Magneto needed, this gesture seemed to puzzle him even more.

Rogue noticed that, and her head tilted slightly, like she was searching for something. The answer came to her a moment later, and the revelation caught her off guard.

“You don’t know, do you?” she asked him flustered.

“Know what exactly?” Erik asked back, equally confused.

“The extent of my powers; you don’t know how far they go.” The realization had her eyes widened, and her mouth slightly open in surprise. “You always thought that my mutation is only about absorbing the life and powers of the ones I touch. The Professor never told you anything more, did he?”

Magneto huffed in anticipation. “If you have a point to make, I suggest you make it.”

Rogue raised her chin and looked straight in his eyes. “My mutation’s main...‘function’ is to absorb the life energy of the ones I touch; but it goes beyond that.”

Erik waited to see where this was going.

“The life force I take contains more than someone’s energy – or powers, in case I touch a mutant. It also includes feelings, talents, skills, character traits, knowledge…and _memories_.”

Erik was unable to hide his awe at her confession.

Rogue nodded to solidify even her statement more.

“So you see, Erik,” she concluded “I didn’t need anyone to tell me about your past, who you were, or what you’ve done. You had already given me this information the moment you touched me.”

Magneto inhaled deeply, trying to cope with what he’d just heard. He detested that a child like her owned so much of him. That she had witnessed his life by peeking at his memories. What frustrated him even more was that he couldn’t accuse her for invading his mind. She hadn’t; in fact, it had been the other way around.

Seeing him strain under the weight of her admission, for some reason she couldn’t explain, Rogue felt he ought to know one more thing.

“After I returned from Liberty Island, my state of mind was chaotic. The control of my powers was beyond reach, and I already had enough memories from two different people to drive me insane. The Professor thought it’d be better if he locked all of them away, in order to protect my sanity, and perhaps – eventually – I’d manage to find the way to do it myself.

I never tried to see what was in your mind, Erik. I’d already had your memories swirling inside my head, and I had my own traumas to deal with. But there were nights your nightmares paid me a visit. And during my stay in the labs, the walls the Professor had so carefully placed collapsed, letting all the thoughts and life experiences I had collected from you and everyone else out. I was given no choice; not from them, and certainly not from you.”

Erik looked down and nodded slowly. “I had no idea that the nature of your powers was so…complicated. Or _that_ demanding,” he admitted quietly.

“Of course you didn’t,” Rogue said condescendingly. “You didn’t _care_ to know. All you cared about was to win the war you started before the humans had the chance. You were so obsessed with fighting back, you didn’t realize you were treating me in the same way _you_ ’d been treated.”

Erik’s head shot up, his stare giving away his shock.

“I saw what they did to you,” she told him, a hint of compassion lacing her voice.

“The fear; the desperation; the _rage_ ; I saw your struggle to reach your family while the soldiers were dragging you away; I watched your mutation manifesting at the worst possible moment; Klaus Schmidt’s twisted enthrallment and obsession with your ‘gift’; your futile attempt to move a single coin to save your mother…and failing. I saw it all… _felt_ it all.”

Erik was listening dumbfounded. His emotions were displayed on his face by the constant change of expressions. But what caught his attention the most was the last thing Rogue said. His eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean you ‘felt’ it all?” he demanded.

Rogue sighed and looked away. When her eyes returned back on him again, the man before her saw for the first time the weight of all the lives and knowledge she’d been carrying.

“The memories I absorb are not…images. It’s not like I’m a viewer that stands aside and watches what happens. Everything I integrate becomes a part of me; like I actually lived it. When I take someone within me, I don’t just witness their experiences…I experience them _myself_.”

Erik was unable to form a sentence or a coherent thought. This young girl was seriously claiming she’d been through the atrocities of World War II?

“Are you telling me that through our contact you’ve suffered what I did? As if it were _you_ there instead of me?”

“Yes,” Rogue only said. “I saw your suffering, Erik. I _lived_ it. The growing anger, that became insatiable hate. How helpless you felt, when the control over your life and powers were stripped from you. Watching the men who sent you and your parents to a concentrating camp treating you like you were nothing, just because you were different. Torturing you by making choices of life and death based on whether you were useful or taxing.

I saw the day you decided you’d never let anyone have power over you again. When you promised to avenge; to make sure next time _you’d_ be the one who’d strike first.

That’s the saddest thing about you, Erik. After everything you’ve been through, in the end…you became _exactly_ like the people you hate.”

Magneto’s head snapped back, as if he’d been slapped. “Watch your tongue, girl,” he whispered menacingly. “They and I are _nothing_ alike! The Nazis were trying to exterminate my people, wipe us entirely from the face of this earth!” he snarled.

“Was the Holocaust so different from what you tried to do several times in the past?” Rogue challenged. “The Nazis thought that the cause justifies the means because they believed their cause was righteous; just like _you_ believe about _your_ cause! That’s why I can’t forgive what you did to me!”

Silence fell over them. The cold wind paced back and forth, taking away the words that had been spoken, as their meaning dawned inside both of them.

Rogue shook her head in ire. “ _You knew_ , Erik. You knew what it’s like to be victimized, to be treated like a weapon. And yet, when you had the chance you did the same to another child.”

Erik remained silent, knowing there was nothing he could respond to that. He looked at Rogue and for the first time after many years, the cord that held his conscience began to strain under the weight of regret.

Sensing the faint change in him, Rogue continued.

“My early years weren’t that different from yours, you know. I was also an only child, coming from a traditional family. I lived most of my life wrapped up inside a protective bubble, spending my childhood carefree and happy.

At seventeen, my powers manifested. Happened when I had my first kiss; an innocent kiss between two teenagers. That ‘innocent’ moment put a young boy in a coma for weeks and cast me out of my parent’s life for good.”

She went stiff, as the memories engulfed her. After the cure, and her failed attempts to reconnect with them, she didn’t allow herself to reminisce about that part of her life. 

“Thinking back at that moment, I have to admit that at this aspect…I envy you,” Rogue admitted.

Erik’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You _envy_ me?”

She nodded. “I know it was cruel to witness your mother’s murder, and I’m sure it’s still too hard for you to carry the blame – although it wasn’t your fault. But at least you know that she _loved_ you until the very end. I wasn’t so lucky.”

Erik saw what Rogue meant. It was something that had never crossed his mind – how privileged he was to have his parents’ love and acceptance during their life. The thought made him feel a bit for her. He knew the hate and rejection that came from humans. But mutants like Rogue knew the hate and rejection from the people who should have loved and accept them no matter who, or what they were.

“After my father kicked me out of the house,” Rogue continued “I didn’t know what to do. I had no friends or relatives to turn to, no money or other recourses. All I had was a power I hadn’t asked for, and didn’t know how to turn it off. I wasn’t even sure if that was possible.

I spent almost a year on the streets. And let me tell you one thing about the streets Erik, there are a lot of people out there, who are more than willing to take advantage of your helplessness. I met several men who tried to take what little was left of my control over my body, my _life_. But I never let them. It was barely a string of control. More like an idea of it. But I held on tight to it and it kept me going.”

Rogue’s eyes narrowed once more, and what followed next was filled with fury.

“And then _you_ came. You decided that your existence was more important than mine and used me in the name of a higher purpose, just like _you_ had been used. An _inch_ , Erik; I was only left with an inch of control, one last thing that kept me standing, and _you took that from me_!”

The wave of indignation hit Erik hard. The powerful man that was absolutely certain for every step he’d ever made, suddenly began to waver.

He let what Rogue had confessed to sink in.

“I…” he tried to find the right words to proceed. “I understand now, my child. I didn’t know-”

“ _What_?” Rogue cut him harshly. She felt the injustice of it all smothering her. “You didn’t know what? What it’s like for someone to steal your freedom? You needed me to tell you all that to realize what you’ve done?”

Erik lowered his head and nodded in agreement once more. “You are right. I was so focused on trying to never become another’s puppet again, to win this war at any cost, that I didn’t realize how severely I wronged you.”

Rogue snorted. “I suppose you think this should make me feel better.”

“No, I don’t,” Magneto exclaimed. “But, perhaps you’ll find some consolation to the fact that it wasn’t too long ago when I paid for what I’d done to you, by ending up feeling as helpless and without control once more; in _your_ hands this time.”

Rogue frowned in question.

“Do you remember my extraction from the prison I’d been placed?” Erik asked.

The expression of her face said it all. “Oh, I remember alright. _I remember_.”

……

**_USP Florence ADMAX, Colorado, 8 months ago…_ **

****

_He took a look outside the 4 inch wide window of his prison cell. The light was starting to fade; soon it would be dark._

_Not that it mattered. Being locked in a 7 ft x 12 ft prison cell for almost two years, made most things seem mundane; especially time._

_After Alcatraz Island, Erik believed he would live a relatively peaceful life from then on. The loss of his powers after being injected with the ‘cure’ had cost him dearly. Yet, he had managed to find a way to move on and make the best he could with what he was left; until the day the world discovered that the cure wasn’t permanent._

_After this revelation, the newly formed government began to track down all the mutants that had chosen to take the cure and offered them the chance to visit ‘medical facilities’ where they would undergo tests to find out if the return of their mutation would cause any complications to them; or so they claimed…_

_The mutants that had been considered a ‘liability’ were transferred to the same medical centers, only to be transported to labs or prisons that were specifically designed for whoever of their kind committed a crime, or was just simply suspected to be a threat._

_Magneto had managed to escape human custody for some time. But even he, with his ravaging power, could not outrun them forever. The humans didn’t have powers, but they certainly had ways, and they were as equally determined as he was. In the end, he was just one man against far too many._

_He was captured and charged for terrorism and conspiracy for the events at Alcatraz Island. After that, the laws that had been enacted after the 9/11 to prevent terrorist attacks – which had been upgraded to include mutants as well – led him straight to the_ _United States Penitentiary, Administrative Maximum Facility._

_ADX Florence – as it was commonly known – wasn’t just a maximum security prison. It was considered a supermax facility, where the level of security provided was much higher than other “high security correctional institutions”; it was called, “the Alcatraz of the Rockies” and had earned its name for good reason._

_Here, it was the house for people who had been deemed as the most dangerous,_ _and in need of the tightest control; Magneto was one of them._

 _For two years, he lived in a small cell for 23 hours a day, and only one hour out of it. For security reasons, he along with other mutants where placed in the “Z-unit”; one_ _for inmates who were deemed extreme security risks. An inhibitor collar had been placed around his neck the moment he was apprehended, and hadn’t left its place ever since._

_He clutched the metal collar and focused on the metal around him for the umpteenth time. So many ways of escape within his grasp and yet none that could free him, as long as that leash held his neck._

_His iron discipline halted these thoughts before they took root in his mind. One could go insane constantly contemplating how close, but still so far away he was from having the power to free himself. He had patience; it was what kept him going, what kept him surviving everything he’d suffered. He wouldn’t meet his end in this place; his time would come._

_The sun had been gone completely now. The electric light looming in his room went off and the moment it did, he realized he still hadn’t gotten his one hour out of the cell._

Strange, _he thought, but didn’t pay more attention. He laid on his cot stolidly, keeping his eyes closed and his mind quiet._

_~~~~~~_

_Three loud thuds stirred his sleep as the light switched on. Through his blurriness, he heard the gruff voice of the guard._

_“Inmate 21478-200; it’s time for your one hour out of your cell. Stand up and turn around; kneel and place your hands behind your head.”_

_Erik was surprised. In all his time in this place it was the first time his one hour out was going to be in the middle of the night. It surely must have been after midnight; 1, perhaps 2 am in the morning._

_He got up slowly, trying to come out of the haze sleep had offered. He followed the instructions precisely and heard the steel door opening. The footsteps of the guards stomped towards him and heard the keen sound of handcuffs as one of the guards grabbed his right hand to bring it behind his back to tie him._

_“If I may ask, is there a reason I’m having my one hour at this time of night? Am I being punished for a transgression I’m not aware about?” he tried to find out._

_“No questions, inmate. Stay silent and remain in position until you’re told,” the guard answered and when he made sure the prisoner was restrained properly, he grabbed him from the arm to lift him up._

_“Turn around and walk slowly,” the guard instructed, and the moment Erik turned, his eyes fell on the other guard that was about to escort him outside._

_During his time in this prison, several guards had come and gone, making circular shifts, covering all six levels this institution contained. He’d seen all of the security staff that had immediate connection with the prisoners at least twice; this young man before him, he saw for the first time._

_“Newcomer?” Erik offered, and the guard that escorted him towards his cell’s exit, immediately put him to a halt._

_“Careful, inmate,” he suggested with a calm, but steady voice. “One more word and your free hour will be spent trying to go back to sleep again.”_

_Erik winced, but kept his composure. “My apologies, officer; won’t happen again.”_

_“Good,” the guard responded curtly. He looked at his peer, who seemed to be waiting for instructions._

_“Let’s go,” the older guard told him, and the man went directly and grabbed Erik’s other arm._

_They walked him down the corridor, and Magneto glanced at the other cells as they were heading towards the remote-controlled steel door. Not for the first time, he wondered how many mutants, and with what kind of powers, were held in each one of them._

_They waited for few seconds for the door to open and headed to the second, which would lead to the third – and final – security door that would take them to the lobby and from there, to the prison yard._

_Erik sensed some tension from the young guard and wondered if this was his very first day here. He tried to take a better look at him and what he saw gave him a feeling of alertness._

_This man was certainly new in this prison, but the tension he was giving off had nothing to do with inexperience._

_After reaching the third door and waiting for it to open, awareness flooded Erik’s mind. The second the steel wall before them began to slide open, a masked man dressed in black appeared out of nowhere, standing still before the three of them._

_The guard gaped, but before he managed to do anything, the new guard released his right arm from where it was holding Erik’s, pressed his head down to bend him over, turned and raised his left forearm to land it on the back of the other guard’s neck, rendering him unconscious._

_Straightening up again, Erik looked at the guard on the ground with widened eyes, as his mind was struggling to figure out what was happening. He then glanced at the young man right next to him, who gave him a sharp look; finally, Erik turned his attention at the man in black._

_He was covered from head to toe; a total black bodysuit hid his physique. Military boots and gloves hugged his limps and a balaclava masked his face. His eyes were hidden behind red night vision goggles, and a neck armor going all the way down his chest encased his sternum. He would easily pass for a ninja warrior, if it wasn’t for his waist holster that held two guns – one on each side – as well as two small pouches right next to them._

_Erik turned again to the man who’d pretended to be his guard. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”_

_The “guard” looked at him. “You can call me Avalanche. As for what we’re doing here, I think it’s quite obvious,” he answered with a condescending expression, like he was talking to a fool._

_Erik pulled himself together and once the initial shock began to withdraw, he managed to ask a more coherent question._

_“Not that I’m protesting for you trying to get me out of this place, but do you have_ any _idea where you are? This facility is not an ordinary prison; as we speak, a swarm of guards are heading here and, believe me, they won’t hesitate to shoot us down like dogs.”_

_Avalanche and the man in black looked at each other; the young mutant gave Magneto a smug smirk. “Do you hear any alarms going off?”_

_Erik’s brows furrowed and he realized the boy was right; no sound, no men rushing in. He turned his eyes towards the cameras. There was a 24-hour supervision in this place, with intensively high staff-inmate ratios. A multitude of motion detectors and cameras, and 1,400 remote-controlled steel doors made any attempt of escape impossible. The officers in the prison's control center had a “panic button” activated to instantly close every door in the facility, in case an escape attempt took place._

_But none of this happened the seconds that followed after the facility guard had been neutralized. Erik stared at the two men dumbfounded. “How is this possible?”_

_“The cameras are not recording in real time; there’s a time delay. It buys us the few seconds we need to prepare for the next phase,” Avalanche informed him._

_“What about the officers in the control center?” Magneto wondered._

_Avalanche turned towards the man in black with a knowing look. “They won’t be a problem.”_

_Erik felt the adrenaline rush coursing through his body, and walked towards the mutant with determination. “Untie me; take this collar off my neck. I will get us all out of here in no time,” he pressed. “Then you will feel the magnitude of my generosity.”_

_“Not so fast, old man,” Avalanche placed a hand on Erik’s chest. “We’re here to extract you; that doesn’t mean we trust you. Now, follow our lead and we’ll be out of here in no time.”_

_Erik’s brows furrowed. “If you do not trust me, why are you helping me? What are you doing?” he demanded, as he watched Avalanche fumbling with his gun._

_“What’s necessary to cover your extraction,” he muttered. He turned to the man in black, who looked at him behind his goggles and gave him a nod as he drew the gun on his left. Avalanche placed his hand on a transmitter that was hidden in his ear and called: “we’re ready; hit the alarm.”_

_The man in black lowered and hid behind the jutted part of the steel door, aiming towards the lobby. Avalanche kept his gun lower and prepared himself, holding Magneto in place as the sound of alarm finally went off._

“What are you doing _?_ ” _Erik snarled. “You cannot stop these men with your guns;_ I _can! Release me –_ now _before it’s too late!”_

_The moment he completed his sentence, five guards appeared, guns in hand, ready to open fire. The man in black signaled with his hand, and suddenly the ground began to shake fiercely. The guards struggled to keep their balance, but that didn’t stop them from opening fire as they fell on the ground. Avalanche, who kept sending earth shocks through his hand, raised his gun and started shooting._

_Erik shouted as he tried to cover himself with his hands from the guards’ bullets that seemed to pass by them, as if they were instructed by someone to ignore the two men and keep on until they hit the walls behind them. As he was trying to stabilize himself by leaning on a wall next to him, Erik’s eye caught the man in black reaching out a hand, looking like he was focusing on the guards’ guns. He then immediately signaled to Avalanche to stop the quake and within a second, he started shooting the guards who were now on the floor, one by one, until no one moved._

_Everything went quiet except the alarm that kept screaming. The man in black signaled to Avalanche again, who was now on one knee, trying to catch his breath._

_“Alarm off,” he said in his transmitter, and then continued, “proceed with the extraction.”_

_Erik was still recoiled on the wall, trying to perceive what had just happened. He stared at the man in black who was now hovering above the guards, seemingly collecting something from them. After a closer look, Erik realized that the man had shot the guards with tranquilizers and was now removing the darts._

_When he was done, he went to the first two guards and lowered before them. He lifted a hand and looked like he was concentrating on the guns that were now quietly lying down. With a small movement, the guns lifted up slightly, as if they had life of their own, and two gunshots fired. Erik watched stunned, as the bullets remained still on the air, as an invisible force held them in place, and then calmly lowered inside the man’s palm who stashed them inside one of his pouches._

_“Who are you?” Magneto asked. He’d never heard or met anyone with his powers before. Who was this person that possessed the same gift as he did?_

_The man in black straightened up and stared at him. He lifted an index and placed it in front of his face in a “be quiet” gesture. Erik could not see his eyes, but he could tell there was coldness behind the red lens; and perhaps a hint of challenge._

_“No time for this,” Avalanche cut in. “Right now we need the world to renounce us both dead and in order to do that, these two bullets,” he said and pointed towards the pouch that held the bullets, “must be found on us.”_

_Magneto narrowed his eyes to him. “What on earth are you talking about?”_

_Suddenly, two forms started to waver in front of them out of nowhere. A man, who was also completely covered in black, was holding another man in his arms, which he let go and then disappeared once more to return a second later with another man._

A teleporter, _Erik thought._

_He didn’t have the strength to make assumptions anymore. He turned to Avalanche again, a look of astonishment on his face._

_“For God’s sake, will someone explain to me what is going on here?”_

_“Later,” Avalanche insisted with a scold, and then addressed the two men. “You ready?”_

_“Yeah, we’re ready,” one of them responded. “Are you sure this is gonna work? We’re not gonna end up-”_

_“We’ve already been through this,” Avalanche rushed. “The medics that’ll pick you up are our people. The moment you’ll be identified as Erik Lehnsherr and the mutant fanatic who tried to help him escape,” he said showing with his hand himself, “you’ll be switched with two John Doe corpses and you’ll be transferred overseas, just as the deal was.”_

_While Avalanche was explaining this part of the plan, the man in black took out from his other pouch two shots and a small bottle. He placed each needle inside the bottle and extracted some fluid. He then approached the two men._

_One of them flinched at the side of the needle and jumped backwards, pointing towards the shot. “Whoa! What the hell is that?”_

_“Sodium morphate,” Avalanche explained. It will cause your body functions to slow down, to make it look like you’re dead. You’ll be given the antidote once ‘our deaths’ are announced.”_

_The two men looked at each other warily and then focused on the man in black holding the needle. “Can we trust you on this one?”_

_The man in black straightened and tilted his head as if their doubt offended him._

_“If we wanted you dead, you would’ve been dead already,” Avalanche pointed out on behalf of the man. “Deal’s a deal; you do this, you get out. Now move it,” he hissed._

_Both men approached the man in black and lifted their sleeve. After they were both injected, one of them grabbed his hand. “After this, we don’t owe you anymore;_ clean slate _,” he emphasized._

_The man in black nodded once, but then turned and caught the guy’s hand as well; with his free one, he pointed a gloved finger to them as a warning._

_The man rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we got it. No more breaking the law. We’re done with this shit; now, let’s punch it,” he said and gave a pat to his friend’s shoulder._

_At once, their forms began to shift and in a blink of an eye one of them looked like Avalanche and the other like Magneto._

_“Shapeshifters!” Erik muttered in disbelief._

_“The guards won’t be out for long; we gotta push this thing,” Avalanche said to the man in black._

_He gave a curt nod as he took the gun from the right side of his holster – an identical with the one the guards carried – and shot the two Shapeshifters. “Blood” spurted from their chests as they stumbled backwards._

_“Ouch! Shit, that hurt!” the Magneto looking one yelled._

_“Time to go,” Avalanche said to the teleporter and he immediately grabbed Erik, who watched the man in black helping the two Shapeshifters lie down as they started losing consciousness, trying to place them in a realistic way on the floor where they’d be found “dead”._

_Erik felt his body quiver and his consciousness stuttered for a moment before he appeared in a place that looked very much like a cargo bay. Two men and two women dressed in black were there, watching him materialize. One of the women pointed a gun at him. “No move,” she said calmly, but Erik was not fooled by her tone._

_A second later, the teleporter brought in Avalanche, who turned around and patted him friendly on the shoulder. “Thanks,” he said as the teleporter offered a small bow and disappeared in a smoke of sulfur._

_Avalanche turned his attention to the woman and signaled her to lower her gun. He then focused on Erik. “Whatever questions you have, you can ask them now,” he offered._

_Magneto walked to him in anger. “First you untie me and remove this abomination from my neck,” he demanded, pointing towards the inhibitor collar._

_Avalanche shook his head. “I’ve been ordered to keep you restrained. I’m only allowed to give you information about the extraction plan that got you out. Everything else just gonna have to wait,” he answered calmly._

_Erik was at a loss. “What do you mean you’ve been_ ordered _? Aren’t you the one leading this operation?”_

_“No,” Avalanche responded._

_“Then…_ who _is your leader? Where is he?”_

_“On the way; just making sure everything in the prison will go as planned.”_

_Erik’s eyebrows shot up. “The man in the black is your leader?”_

_Avalanche smirked coldly. “Yes,” he replied tersely._

_Magneto sighed in frustration. He could tell that the young man was well trained; and loyal. He wouldn’t give anymore than what he was ordered to. He decided to comply._

_“Tell me about the escape plan that took place; from the beginning,” he pointed out._

_Avalanche looked at him sternly. He’d been warned about the man’s attitude, but that didn’t make his tolerance towards him any easier. He sucked in a breath and began._

_“The plan from the beginning aimed for you to be declared officially dead; we never intended to just help you break out of ADMAX.”_

_“Why not?” Erik inquired._

_“Because after the stunt you pulled at Alcatraz Island and all the shit you caused by releasing the Phoenix to the world,_ you _made that pretty impossible. Why you think you were transferred to the country’s highest level security prison instead of rotting in a lab where they’d treat you as their experiment toy? You’re considered a ‘too high-profile’ criminal. After you were injected by the X Men with the cure, no one gave a damn about your whereabouts, because you simply weren’t dangerous anymore. The only power you had left with was the bitterness of an old fart.”_

_At this, Erik sneered at Avalanche, who just shrugged it off and continued._

_“Of course, that didn’t mean you were off the hook. The government was close enough, watching you, making sure you were behaving; you just never realized. They were being ‘discreet’, waiting for the moment you, or someone from your Brotherhood, would make a move. Unfortunately for you – and your lackeys – the cure wearing off beat you to it.”_

_The information hit Erik like a ton of bricks. He was never free; the humans had just let him believe that so they could recapture him the right time. The entire world had been turned into prison for him all along. He suddenly felt drained and his shoulders slumped._

_Avalanche looked at him wondering if he should say the rest, but Magneto took him out of his dilemma. “Carry on,” he muttered tiredly._

_“The moment the humans realized the cure wasn’t permanent, a secret operation began, where every mutant that’d been injected with the serum was located and brought to medical labs for examination. Some consented and went with their own free will; the other’s…well, I’m pretty sure you know what happened to the others.”_

_Erik shook his head in bitterness. “All too well I’m afraid.”_

_Avalanche nodded. “Anyway, people started to report missing mutants to the police, and suddenly the whole operation seemed to be put to a halt; but there were still some who couldn’t and wouldn’t let go of what had happened at Alcatraz. Similar separations were also located inside the government. The country seemed divided and the last thing the US President wanted was a civil war.”_

_“My boy, all those things you tell me, I am aware of,” Erik stated. “What I do not understand is why create such complicated extraction plan and_ who _is behind it.”_

 _“_ You _were the one who asked me to start from the beginning; that’s what I’m doing. If you don’t like my way, we can stop right now,” Avalanche threatened._

_“No! No, that won’t be necessary,” Erik rushed to say. “My apologies; I’m tired and much less patient than usual, I’m afraid.”_

_“Quit interrupting me every five minutes and you’ll get your chance to rest sooner than later,” Avalanche said dryly._

_Erik nodded and waited for him to proceed._

_“Given the turmoil between humans and mutants, the President ordered for the ‘mutant accumulation’ operation to end, and allow all the mutants that have been rendered ‘innocent’ and ‘harmless’ free. Of course, that didn’t happen before the mutants that have been contained, suffered on the hands of their captors; one way or another._

_After that, the government decided to keep a low profile, and make sure any turmoil between humans and mutants would be kept away from public knowledge. Because of that, the dangerous mutants who’d been arrested – like you – were transferred to prison facilities of maximum security standards to make sure you, or your fanboys won’t cause any trouble.”_

_“So, had you helped me escape, not only it would cause a mutant-human eruption that might compromise our kind’s safety once again, it would also make the government determined to recapture me at any cost; dead or alive,” Magneto concluded._

_“Exactly,” Avalanche confirmed. “They would never stop looking for you, and who knows what would happen to the rest of us if the humans felt threatened again. The only way to get you out and keep them off our backs was for you to get ‘killed’ during an attempt of one of your followers to break you out.”_

_“I see,” Erik monologued. “Your plan makes perfect sense now. There are some things though, that still don’t.”_

_“Like what?” Avalanche asked._

_“You said that the cameras had time delay. That doesn’t make up for the fact that we were recorded to be replaced by shapeshifters. In fact,_ everything _that took place was recorded. The tapes will reveal the truth,” Erik said._

 _“The tapes will reveal the truth_ we _want them to reveal,” Avalanche assured him. “As we speak, our computer expert is recreating the cameras’ footage with images of you and me falling dead from the guards’ guns. That’s why we needed the time delay; and that’s why the alarm wasn’t off until the moment it was necessary.”_

 _“What about the officers in the control room? The guards who tried to prevent our escape? The one you left unconscious?” Erik insisted. “You think they won’t report what they witnessed? The authorities will believe_ them _, not matter what the camera footage will show.”_

_“Good thing we have a telepath who’s been rearranging the minds of the guards and the officers at the control room then. Images of the story we want to leak to the public are implanted to modify the memories of the ones who were involved,” Avalanche informed him._

_At the sound of the word “telepath” Erik’s hair stood up. It couldn’t be…or could it?_

_“A telepath?” he repeated._

_“Yeah. One of the best, actually. She’s done this several times in the past, so no qualms about her skills,” Avalanche said._

“She _?_ _” Erik highlighted._

_Avalanche shrugged a shoulder in a “why not” way, but his attention was fully on Erik again as he watched the man sulk. “Is there a problem?”_

_Erik pulled himself out of his thoughts and shook his head. “No. Just…when you mentioned a telepath helping you, an old friend of mine came to mind. A very powerful telepath himself. But I should have known he wouldn’t be one to agree or aid with such plan.”_

_“Why is that?”_

_Erik let out a small smile. “He is a man with unshakable beliefs and ethics that would never allow him to invade nor violate a person’s mind in such ways; even at the expense of his own life.”_

_Avalanche seemed to think about it. “Strange that someone like you would be friends with a man like him,” he deduced, and something in the way he said that made Erik frown at him._

_“Anyway,” he continued. “Our lady telepath has more…grey areas when it comes to ethics – fortunately. Otherwise, we’d still be struggling to find a way to get you out of that hellhole you put yourself in.”_

_“Speaking of friends,” Erik changed the subject, “what about these people here?” he nodded towards the mutants that surrounded him and haven’t spoken a single word all this time._

_Avalanche peered at them and turned back to Erik. “What about ‘em?”_

_Erik spoke to him slowly as if he was talking to a child. “Who are they?”_

_“Part of the plan,” Avalanche said cryptically._

_“And the person in the black uniform?” Erik pressed. “Is he a part of the plan too?”_

_“The person in the black uniform_ is _the plan. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”_

_“I suppose I should thank him,” Erik assumed sarcastically._

_Avalanche crossed his arms. “The least you can do.”_

_“And what about the intense pain my arms suffer because my hands are_ still _handcuffed, while I’m been watched by five mutants who seem ready to attack me if I dare to make a move? Should I be grateful for that as well?” Erik questioned in a provoking way._

_The five mutants didn’t enjoy the irony, nor Magneto’s attitude. The old man acted like they were supposed to be at his beck and call._

_Avalanche glanced at someone behind Erik, and motioned with his head. “Express your gratitude and complaints yourself.”_

_Erik turned and saw the person in black staring at him. The man hadn’t gotten rid of the mask or the red goggles; he was just standing there, exuding an eerily calmness, that made him shiver._

_The person in black approached slowly, until it was standing in front of Magneto. The old mutant straightened up, and sent the person an arrogant glare._

_“So,” Erik began, “you’re the mastermind behind all this.”_

_The person in black looked at Avalanche questioningly. “You were right,” Avalanche responded. “He’s so obnoxious, it makes you want to kill him. Not to mention acting like a pompous dick,” he added._

_The person in black nodded and a sound that seemed like a snort escaped from the mask._

_Erik’s patience finally ran out. “For God’s sake, take off this mask! Show me who you are and tell me what you want from me!”_

_“You’re in no position to make demands,” the muffled voice told him, and Erik realized in shock that it belonged to a woman._

_As shaken as he was by the familiarity of the voice, he managed to mumble “Who…?”_

_The woman raised a hand slowly and took off the night vision goggles, giving them to Avalanche. Brown eyes stared rigidly at Magneto who struggled to remember where he’d seen those eyes before. She then reached inside the neck armor, grabbing the balaclava and carefully removing it, revealing finally her face._

_Erik’s shock turned to one of wonder as he breathed:_ “Rogue!”

_She gave a small head bow and a fleer. “Erik,” she offered._

_Before he could get over his initial surprise, Rogue’s left fist landed with force on his face, sending him straight to the floor of the cargo bay._

_He turned around as fast as he could to see her standing above him. “You know, i've been wondering; after all these years, do you still feel the same?” he heard her say._

_“About what?” Erik asked confounded, tasting his own blood in his mouth._

_Rogue brought her right hand on her head, and with a mockingly feminine move she caressed with her fingertips the silvery white._

_“My hair,” she quipped with a fake smile, and her hand landed graciously at the knot on the back of her head._

_Erik stared at her, unable to comprehend what she meant, until it came to him: he and Mystique in the Blackbird, on their way to Alkali Lake along with the X Men. A young Rogue watching him from a distance; his derision towards her by bringing up their last encounter in a scornful way._

“We love what you’ve done with your hair.”

_Erik gulped at the memory and looked up at Rogue who was now staring down at him in what could, in the least, be called contempt._

_Rogue glanced at the two men. “Get him up.”_

_They both grabbed Erik and lifted him to stand. He raised his eyes which were met with a hostile expression by the woman in front of him. He made an effort to appease her by expressing gratitude._

_“I was told you were the one responsible for my extraction,” he offered, but Rogue made no move nor said anything._

_He tried again. “Thank you, my dear.”_

_“I didn’t do it for you,” she responded in a harsh tone. “If it were up to me, you wouldn’t be extracted; you’d be shot down for real.”_

_Magneto winced inwardly. He never expected such turn of events, and now his past seemed to be working against him._

_“But since I’m not the one to make that choice, I decided to at least give you a little taste of your own medicine; to see for yourself what it was like for me when_ I _was your captive. I owe you as much,” she jeered._

_Erik made an effort to negotiate. “I suppose it is impossible at this moment to ask for the past to remain there, isn’t it?”_

_“You suppose correctly,” Rogue confirmed. “You know, there was a bit of ‘uneasiness’ about my reaction to you after you’d be brought in. I had to promise that I would restrict my urge to act with the same ‘kindness’ you did when we first met.”_

_Her eyes gave a silent order to the two men, who immediately approached Erik. The bigger of the two grabbed his arms, as the other uncuffed him. He brought Magneto’s hands in front, who made a face of pain from the abrupt move; he’d been tied up for too long._

_The cuffs were placed around his hands again, and the bigger man dragged him near the iron wall of the jet, where an extra pair of handcuffs where placed; after he was forced to sit on the floor, one cuff went in his right hand and the other locked around a pipe right next to him._

_After the two men were done, they stepped away. Rogue walked to him and lowered on her haunches. She looked straight in Erik’s eyes._

_Magneto peered at her, unable to believe this was the same scared girl that screamed and begged for her life while strapped on his machine._

_“Who are you?” he asked again._

_“I’m what people like you made me,” she hissed, and stood up. “Tattoo; Drago,” she said to the bulky man and the woman with the green, partially shaved hair. “When this man took me years ago, he was kind enough to leave two of his people with me to make sure I wouldn’t escape. They never exchanged a word with me; they never tried to make my last moments a bit more bearable – ask me if I needed some water, or if I was cold. I want you to treat our ‘guest’ with same kindness I was.”_

_“Sure thing,” Tattoo nodded._

_“With pleasure,” Drago growled._

_Erik stared at them and turned to Rogue again. “I assume these people are your team.” It was more of a conclusion than a question._

_Rogue turned to Avalanche. “You didn’t tell him?”_

_He shook his head in response._

_“Well in that case, where are my manners?” she said with an ironic grin._

_“Magneto,” Rogue exclaimed and stretched an open palm towards the mutants surrounding them. “Meet the_ Untouchables _. As you’ve already heard, this is Tattoo and Drago,” she presented his guards._

_“Puppet Master and Domino,” she showed the other team member and the woman who had pointed her gun at him when he was brought in respectively._

_“You’ve already met Avalanche; my second-in-command,” she stated, and Erik looked at the man he thought originally to be in charge._

_“Now, if we’re done, I need to head back to the cockpit. There’s still much that need to be set,” she said and prepared to go._

_“Wait!” Erik called out._

_Rogue glanced at him above her shoulder._

_“Back at the prison, you used my powers,” he said. It has been eating him ever since he saw her controlling the guns and bullets._

_“I did,” she admitted._

_“How is this possible?”_

_“_ You _gave them to me; remember? And since we’re at it, I should probably thank you for that. They’ve proven to be quite useful,” she finished and started to walk away again._

_Aware that she wasn’t going to give him anything more than this, Erik tried for something else he needed._

_“Rogue,” he said again, a hint of plea coming out._

_She stopped and turned around once more, looking irritated. “What now?”_

_“Can I at least have some water?” Erik asked._

_Rogue seemed to consider it. “Of course you can,” she decided._

_Puppet Master headed to get a cup with water, when she stopped him with a hand on his chest._

_“Once we reach our destination,” she made clear._

_Erik shut his eyes in indignation._

_Rogue looked at Drago and Tattoo. “If he gives you any trouble, you know what to do,” she said, and they nodded._

_Erik suddenly shot his head up. Anger took over, and he tried to stand. “Where are you taking me? Where are we going?” he yelled._

_Rogue stared at him dispassionately; she acted like she was dealing with a rotten kid. “Home, Erik,” she answered enigmatically. “We’re going_ home _.”_

_“What do you mean? Who hired you to do this? Charles would have never accepted for me to be treated like this! Who’s giving you orders?”_

_Erik continued to erupt, until Rogue had enough. She shot a look at Avalanche, who took a needle with a transparent liquid out of his pouch and injected it in Erik’s neck. The last thing the powerful mutant saw was the face of the child he’d once sentenced to death, staring back at him stoically._

_Rogue watched the body of her arch enemy going limp, lying unconscious on the floor. She shook her head condescendingly, as she muttered only two words._

____“Old people…”_ _ __

……

Erik and Rogue were looking at each other as they both were slowly coming back from their short journey to the recent past. Rogue blinked as Erik exchanged a look of recognition with her.

“You see my dear, you had your revenge against me; that night, _you_ were in charge and _I_ was completely at your mercy.”

Rogue snorted. “Spare me the drama, Erik. Your life was never in danger. Making your journey to the Mansion a bit insufferable doesn’t compare to what you put me through.”

“True,” he acknowledged. “But still; I had no control, no powers. I had to wait for you to make a call to know what was lying ahead of me. My control was exclusively in your hands.”

“To bring you safely here,” she insisted. “You deprived me of my control in order to take my freedom _and_ my life; and in return, I gave you both yours back. I can literally taste the irony in this,” she soughed bitterly.

“Yes; once again, you are perfectly right. But don’t think that I take the effort you made to help me escape lightly,” Erik acknowledged. “I _am_ grateful to you.”

Rogue looked at him for a long moment, trying to put her thoughts in words.

“Erik, let me make myself clear about something.”

His whole attention was on her.

“I haven’t forgiven you for what you’ve done. Honestly, I’ve been struggling with it for years. Not because you deserve forgiveness, but because I’m tired of carrying this burden. It drags me down, keeps me from moving on, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life defined by that moment. Forgiving you means I’ll be finally able to let go. So you can be sure that one day, I _will_ forgive you; in my own way and on my own terms.”

“I utterly respect that-” Erik began to say, before he was stopped.

“I’m not finished,” Rogue silenced him.

“These past six years I went through enough that can fill two lives – and that without taking under consideration the people I absorbed. My experiences made me see that life is not black and white. I saw friends turning into enemies, and enemies acting better than friends.

The last couple of years I’ve been trying to deal with what happened between you and me. 

At first, all I could see was a ruthless man, hell-bent on using me to have things done his way. But then I remembered when I asked you if you were going to kill me, hoping for a negative answer. I remember how brutally blunt you were, instead of sugarcoating the truth. And that’s when it hit me.”

Erik frowned, but he didn’t interrupt her.

“Back then I thought you were a heartless man. But now, after experiencing betrayal from the ones I least expected to, I can fully appreciate your candor.

You are many things, Erik, and most of them are not good. But you’re not a liar. You never tried to hide your intentions. You didn’t try to avoid my question or make it seem like something it wasn’t. You were honest; cruelly perhaps, but still honest. Something many people I held close weren’t.

After all the deception and hypocrisy I’ve seen, I can finally value raw honesty for what it is. You looked me in the eyes and gave me the truth in a way no friend, loved one, or ally ever did. And for that, I am grateful.”

Erik felt a newly found appreciation for the young woman. He’d seen what her powers could do, seen her in action, and he always felt impressed and awed by her evolution. Tonight though, he began to feel for her something he reserved for extremely few people.

“Saying that, I’m going to return the favor and be honest with you as well. I see you as my enemy – and I probably always will. I’ll never fully trust you and I’ll always expect the worst from you, but I’ll never try to go behind your back. You’re the Professor’s ally and for as long as you’ll be, that’s how I’ll treat you.

But let me warn you right here and now, if you try to use me for a second time – or any of my people; if you try to deceive the Professor and risk his life again, I will _bury_ you. Six.feet.under. Understood?” she completed, rising one eyebrow.

“Perfectly, my dear,” Erik assured her. “And since we’re being truthful to each other, l give you my word that no harm will come to Charles as long as I’m close to him; from me or anyone else.”

Rogue heard the sincerity in his words. Perhaps there was hope for this man after all.

“Thank you,” she said.

“I don’t do it for you,” he returned back the line she’d given him almost a year ago.

Rogue knew what he meant and a knowing smile appeared on her lips that was transmitted to Erik. For the first time since they’d met, the two mutants were treating each other as they ought to.

Rogue felt her need for isolation growing stronger and turned to Erik. “Well; since we’ve settled this, I’d like to spend some time alone now.” She paused and eyed him carefully. “You’re not planning on following me, are you?”

“Of course not,” Erik reassured her. “But, before you leave, there is also one more matter I’d like to discuss with you – since now we’re on good terms and all.”

Rogue smirked. “What is it?”

“After you left, Charles asked me, Henry and Storm to remain in order to discuss another issue.”

Rogue shrugged. “If the Professor didn’t want me to hear it, perhaps he had a good reason.”

“According to him, he has. But like you already said, you and I appreciate honesty too much. I do not agree with the way Charles wants to deal with this matter, so I thought I should inform you myself.”

Rogue’s brows creased in question. “What’s going on?”

Erik made an effort to find the right way to put it. “As you know, tomorrow is the annual memorial to honor the fallen friends and comrades.”

Rogue nodded.

“After the memorial Charles and I will be heading to the airport to collect a mutant Charles in particular considers valuable for what’s coming.”

Rogue was caught off guard. “You and the Professor are going to pick up a mutant? _Personally_? From what I know, that hasn’t happened since Jean Grey.”

“That is correct,” Erik confirmed. “But Charles insisted on going together to bring this particular individual here.”

“Why? What’s so special about this ‘individual’ that the Professor needs you with him? And why he didn’t want me to know?” Rogue asked.

Erik paused for a moment. “Apparently, because of your connection with him.”

Rogue blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Wolverine is returning to New York. Charles insists on meeting him at the airport,” Erik finally confessed.

Rogue went stiff and quiet. The rustle of the leaves from the night breeze gave an imminent feeling.

She swallowed hard and turned her attention to the forest, as if she wanted to run in it to escape. She looked down and after a moment, she finally raised her eyes on Erik again.

“How did the Professor find out?”

“Cerebro,” Erik said laconically.

“He’s been trying to locate him?” Rogue was dazed.

“No, just keeping an eye on him, every now and then. For the record, Charles does that with all of you everytime one is far away for too long. Just making sure that you’re alright and safe; no mental intrusion takes place.”

He halted for a second. “He does that with you as well everytime you’re on an extended mission.”

Rogue failed to hold back a look of amazement. Erik nodded to fortify the truth of his words.

“He cares for you and your well being; very much so.”

“That’s why he kept Wolverine’s return from me?” she asked bitterly.

“Now, now, my dear; I think you misunderstood Charles’ intentions,” Erik rushed to explain. “He doesn’t want to bring you before a de facto situation; he just wanted Storm and Henry to prepare you just in case you’d be upset about it.”

“And avoiding talking directly to me was the best way he could find?” Rogue concluded.

“That was where my objection was. But he thought that your close friendship with the two X Men made them better candidates to prepare you.”

Rogue gave him a dubious look. “Was that why you approached me tonight? That’s what all this conversation was about? To inform me about Wolverine’s return?”

Erik felt a bit uncomfortable. Personal conversations weren’t his niche, but this seemed to be important and he didn’t want anything to go awry. He wasn’t aware of the relationship Rogue shared with the Wolverine, but according to Charles, Storm and McCoy it was meaningful enough to have Rogue possibly protest about his reinstatement to the X Men.

“From what I understand, it was considered possible for his return to cause…discomfort between the two of you; thus, I assumed it would be best for you to have more time to prepare yourself.”

Rogue lifted a brow ironically. “I had no idea my well being concerned you so much. I’m touched.”

Erik mustered his composure. His initiative didn’t seem to be a wise move anymore.

“You know how important you are for the X Men, Rogue – and not just for your battle skills and knowledge. You seem to inspire; you motivate people and bring out the best of them. Several team members look up to you. We cannot afford to have you sinking in issues that might turn into quick sand.”

Rogue pursed her lips and lowered her head to avoid giving away anything more. There was no point in arguing with Magneto about this. He wouldn’t understand anyway.

“Thank you for letting me know. Don’t worry; I won’t let anything distract me or keep me from doing what needs to be done.”

She went for the stairs, intent on visiting the lake. She didn’t know what hurt her most: the fact that the man she called her enemy was as honest with her as she expected from the ones she held close – even if it was for _his_ best interest – or that the people she considered family were failing her once again?

She heard Erik’s voice calling her.

“Rogue!”

She turned her head and saw his worried expression.

“Are you going to be alright? About Wolverine’s presence here I mean?”

She clenched her jaw and kept descending the stairs; the two words she let out signaled the end of their conversation.

“Goodnight Erik.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name of Rogue's team "Untouchables", is a nod to the Logan/Marie forum and the people who gave that title to the Rogan fans who constitute it. 
> 
> Feel free to share any thoughts or recommendations that might help the writing of this fic improve. It's always great to read comments filled with love about the story, but the ones who point out any weaknesses and/or flaws are deeply appreciated and equally important as well.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	5. Feral insticts*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-posting chapter from "the Return of She-King". Feel free to skip it if you do not wish to re-read.
> 
> I feel compelled to apologize for re-posting chapters from my previous fic, but as i aforementioned, this story is - in a way - an extended version of the same plot. Given this, i didn't want the readers to feel forced to go back and read the original fic, nor i wanted to leave any plot gaps that might cause confusion. This only happens in the first few chapters, so i ask for your patience and understanding. I would also like to assure you that there will be a brand new chapter posted before or after every re-post.

He knew where to find her. Not because of his feral senses, or her distinct scent that always felt so unique and fetching – an impact it seemed to have in every feral mutant. Every week this particular day and time she was at the same place she always was, performing the same ritual. Today, she seemed even more inclined to spend time there – much more than the usual.

As he was approaching the clearing, he could see her feminine silhouette standing still; she was looking eerie…almost otherworldly. Covered in a long black dress that kept her skin and its sheer force hidden, it also managed to reveal her formidable strength and presence. Her hair was covered with a black hood and the way her head was leaning towards the graves of their beloved friends, made her look like she was letting out a silent prayer.

Whispered words were filling the air and suddenly she seemed like a druidess, trying to call the spirits of the dead. It wouldn’t surprise him if she managed. If there was anyone who could connect with the soul and energy of other people, who could understand the passage from one form of life and existence to another, that was Rogue.

He was a few feet away now, yet he knew she was aware he was coming long before he was close enough for her to hear him. She acknowledged his presence by speaking first, always keeping her back at him, her attention focused continuously on the carved stones.

“You should’ve known by now that it’s pretty impossible to sneak up on me, don’t you think?” she asked as she slowly turned her lovely face towards him, giving him an enigmatic smile.

“I would never make the mistake to assume anything less, my dear,” Hank returned the gesture with a friendly smile of his own.

He was standing beside her now, looking at the graves of the fallen ones they had paid their respects to just this morning – both as mutants and X Men. Over the past four years their little sad cemetery has grown and now next to the tombstones of Cyclops and Jean more friends, comrades and innocents were resting.

A memorial took place every year around this time; a way to reminisce the ones they’d miss and honor their life as much as their death and sacrifices. For Rogue, it seemed like that wasn’t enough. The last day of the week – every week – right before the sun was set, she would come down here to light a candle placed on each grave and say a few words.

Hank himself was never much of a believer. To him, science held more truths than spirituality. But for someone with Rogue’s gift, with the mental and emotional consequences such power brought upon her…that path seemed to suit her better.

“What are you doing here Hank? I thought the memorial was more than enough for a scientist who only believes in the tangible,” she mused, trying to lighten the mood. He could tell she was sensing his tension, and he couldn’t be more grateful that she was trying to make it easier for him.

Hank let out a quiet laugh. “I might seek proof for everything that attempts to capture my attention on a theoretical level, Rogue, but like everyone else, I also sometimes need to feel closer to the things and people I cannot reach.”

At that, she gave him a sad look of understanding and a friendly caress on his shoulder. She seemed to have the ability to be attuned with one’s feelings – another sign that the woman she had become held little to no resemblance to the hesitant girl doctor McCoy had met for the first time in Charles’ office so long ago.

“We all need consolation at some point – even when it comes from places opposed to our personal beliefs. You don’t have to embrace the idea of the afterlife like Kurt does to accept the comfort it offers,” she said in a calm tone that soothed his nervousness.

“But we both know that’s not the reason you came back here,” she continued. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

Hank let out a sigh and tried to stall for a little longer. “I have to admit, your extraordinary ability to read other people’s minds without being a telepath always leaves me mesmerized.”

A soft smile was back on her lips again, and Hank saw a glint of mischief crossing her eyes.

“I’m a woman. Did you expect anything less?”

Hank laughed and felt his mood lighten a bit. Rogue always had a way to make him feel comfortable and at ease in her presence, and he enjoyed the way she was enriching her sense of humor with hints of sass and generous amounts of sarcasm.

“My dear girl, I have fallen victim to many errors regarding your mutation and have reached several wrong conclusions when it came to you, as an individual, in the past. I, by all means, do not attend to repeat such mistakes ever again.”

Rogue continued to look at him with the same amusement and decided it was time for the kind feral to start talking about whatever it was that brought him back to the clearing in the first place.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she nodded. “But I helped you postpone whatever it is you want to tell me long enough. What’s going on?”

Hank inhaled deeply. “You know that Charles and Erik left after the memorial service to go and collect a mutant we hope will be inclined to join us.”

Rogue nodded, looking at him intently, waiting for him to finish what he’d started.

“What you were not informed is that this ‘new recruit’…is Logan. Charles and Erik are heading to the airport right now to meet with him.”

Rogue blinked, but said nothing. She kept staring at the blue-furred mutant calmly, without showing any reaction.

Hank stood there waiting for her to do or say something…but that never happened. After a few more moments of silence, Rogue raised her eyebrows and leaned her head towards him. “And?”

He felt a little startled by her reaction, not sure how to continue. “Well…that is it, to be honest,” he finished awkwardly.

Her lips started forming a smile again, one that was getting wider as she was turning completely to face him. “Is that why Ororo seemed so nervous this morning while she was talking with you?”

“You heard our discussion? You were aware what this was all about since before I came to find you?” Hank asked surprised.

“I’m not in habit of eavesdropping,” Rogue answered, “but even if I was, I wouldn’t need to this time. Ororo might come with the name ‘Storm’, but she hardly ever allows herself to be anything but calm and controlled – unless she chooses to. Today, it was obvious she had a hard time to keep her inner turmoil in check; although there was no need for all this panic.”

“How so?” Hank was confused.

“Because I _was_ aware what this was all about since before you came to find me,” Rogue said, answering Hank’s question with the same words he had vocalized it.

Hank remained stone still, processing what he’d just heard. “How is this possible? Charles informed me and Ororo about Logan’s upcoming return to New York last night, after you had retired. He personally asked me and Ororo to prepare you for this event so there wouldn’t be any…” he hesitated, trying to find the right word. Rogue’s both eyebrows lifted, provoking Hank to complete his sentence. “…discomfiture,” he finished.

“For him? Or me?” Rogue asked with a hint of irony.

“Both, I imagine,” the blue feral responded, feeling more and more eager to finish this conversation. “Charles insisted on going to find Logan himself, fearing that if someone else did, he wouldn’t be as inclined to return.”

Rogue nodded, thinking about it. “I have to admit, it’s a good plan. Wolverine always held a lot of respect for the Professor. No one would be more appropriate for this task. Besides, a man that’s practically immortal would be more willing to listen and be convinced by a ‘dead man’ who managed to cheat death,” she continued, looking a bit irritated by the Professor’s request to Hank and Storm to cushion the blow.

Hank tried to lead the conversation to a less dangerous ground. She still hadn’t answered him how she’d found out.

“If it is not too much of an indiscretion…may I ask _how_ did you find out?”

Rogue gestured to him to start walking towards the Mansion. “Magneto,” she said after they’ve taken a few steps.

Hank halted abruptly. “Erik? _He_ told you?”

“Uh huh,” Rogue nodded while she kept walking. Hank quickened his pace to be beside her once more. He shook his head angrily.

“Charles warned him not to interfere. He specifically told him to leave this to Ororo and me.”

“And Charles actually believed that Erik would listen?” Rogue asked in a mildly harsh tone.

Hank was surprised again. Rogue never called Xavier by his name. To her, he was always “the Professor”, a mentor and a father-figure that held her respect and appreciation, and who she always looked at with a softness and tenderness her eyes rarely held anymore.

Hank tried again. “My dear…”

“Hank,” Rogue interrupted him. “Erik is an ally now, but that doesn’t mean he’s a _friend_ , even to the Professor. I understand – _know_ – about their friendship and connection first hand; but all that is buried under the dust of everything that happened between the X Men and the Brotherhood.” At that point, Rogue stopped walking and turned to face Hank once more.

“He proved what kind of man he was four years ago, on the Statue of Liberty, consequences be damned.”

Hank tried to say something, but she stopped him by raising her hand.

“I know that you think I feel this way just because of what he did to me, but it’s more than that. Look what he tried to do to the Professor. How many times he brought him on the verge of death? He sent Mystique to sabotage Cerebro when he was trying to find me, he left him captive in an illusion at Alkali lake, when Phoenix-”

At that she stopped and let a heavy sigh. Hank waited, allowing her to finish.

“He’s only willing to go as far as his self-preservation lets him. He’s willing to make sacrifices as long as he’s not the one to do them. He’ll do anything and everything to make sure that his plans won’t derail, without caring about or respecting others. You want proof? The Professor told you and Storm to talk to me, but Erik’s trust in us is lacking so much, he decided to prepare me himself for Wolverine’s return.”

Hank began to realize the reason behind Rogue’s frustration. At first, he thought it was because the Professor didn’t come to inform her himself about his intention to bring Logan back. Now, it became obvious it was more about his decision to put his trust in people he shouldn’t have. He could understand her bitterness; though he had no idea how deep it went.

“He came to find me after I left,” Rogue continued. “I was taking a walk, like I usually do before I go to bed, when he came to me. He told me about today’s ‘pickup mission’ and informed me that the Professor was about to ask from you and Ororo to make sure I’d know in a ‘delicate way’. He asked me if I was going to be alright with Wolverine coming back and if his return here would make it hard for me to keep ‘performing’ as well as I have so far.”

Hearing this, Hank began to feel an angry growl rising that almost escaped him.

“What was your response to him, if I may ask?”

“I said goodnight and left,” Rogue said, and she started walking again. She looked at Hank, who now had his head lowered. “He thinks I’m valuable. With my new powers, training, and experience I’m considered a most important ‘ _asset’_. I’m useful to him – not in the way I was few years ago, but still…as long as I am usable he can’t afford to risk any ‘inconvenience’ that might draw me away from here.”

Hank reached out and caught her by the elbow to stop. “Could you please do me a favor?” Rogue stared at him at a loss by his reaction. “Can you stop addressing yourself like you‘re some kind of a weapon that will be considered expendable after its usage is done?”

She turned to face him, disappointment in her eyes. “Why all this frenzy about my reaction to Wolverine’s return, Hank? Have all of you forgotten what I’ve been through these past few years? What made you believe that I can’t handle _this_?”

Hank looked at her apologetically. “Rogue, my dear, if my way to approach you on this matter offended you, I am deeply and sincerely sorry. It was not my intention to imply that you cannot handle yourself when it comes to personal matters – or one of any other nature. But the truth is that you and Logan were close. You had an immensely strong connection and bond with each other. It was only natural for me, Charles and Ororo to worry about what his return might mean to you after all these years and how you would react to it. And the truth is that the way you avoid calling him by his real name makes me wonder if you are not so comfortable about it as you claim.”

Rogue seemed to consider what Hank said. After a moment, she raised her eyes, a depth in them that gave away the experiences and knowledge she’d been collecting – a vast spectrum of wisdom that extended beyond her 23 years.

“You’re right. He and I _were_ close and we _had_ an immensely strong connection and bond with each other. You chose the past tense correctly, Hank. Because this ‘bond’ or ‘friendship’ or however you wanna call it, belongs there; in the past. I don’t know the man that’s coming here. Just his name: _Wolverine_. And you can be damn sure he has no idea who I am either. Everything’s changed – _I_ changed. I don’t expect from him to be the same person he was; and neither should any of you.”

With that, Rogue began to walk again. They were near the school’s entrance now. But before she reached for the doors, she turned around to face Hank one last time. “And Hank…?”

The blue mutant lifted his head as she continued; “It’s not my reaction you all should be worrying when he and I meet again…it’s his.”

And without another word, she entered the Mansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: the return of the prodigal


	6. The Prodigal's return*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-posting chapter from "the Return of She-King". Feel free to skip it if you do not wish to re-read.
> 
> I feel compelled to apologize for re-posting chapters from my previous fic, but as i aforementioned, this story is - in a way - an extended version of the same plot. Given this, i didn't want the readers to feel forced to go back and read the original fic, nor i wanted to leave any plot gaps that might cause confusion. This only happens in the first few chapters, so i ask for your patience and understanding. I would also like to assure you that there will be a brand new chapter posted before or after every re-post.

Logan couldn’t help the twist in his gut while the Professor was recounting the events that had followed his departure all this time ago.

Jesus, how long has it been…3-4 years?

After Alcatraz, he had left the Mansion and the country torn, caught up too deep in his own grief to care about anything outside his pain. Time, the world itself, and everything he’d known for the past couple of decades just didn’t matter anymore.

More than a year had passed when Yukio found him, and till her arrival he wasn’t willing to go back to living again. It took a trip to Japan, long buried memories, bloodshed, and being dragged to the brink of permanent death to shake him out of his lethargic mourning.

Then hope had followed; hope that not everything was lost as long as he was willing to keep going.

After he left the country of the rising sun, he felt he had risen himself. Where sorrow, regret and guilt once dwelled, there was now redemption, deliverance and something that resembled – in the slightest of ways – peace.

Little did he know that while he was finding a form of peace, the people he called friends were facing the threat of open war.

When the plane landed, he knew why he had made the decision to return. But after he stepped his foot on solid ground, he wasn’t so sure it was a good idea anymore. His first thought after he had bought that one-way ticket to New York was the X Mansion and the people that lived there. Too many times he wondered during those years of travelling; where they doing well? Did the Professor’s legacy kept living? Was everything going ok after the revelation that the cure wasn’t permanent? Was _she_ …?

To that, Logan had stopped to a halt. Too long. He’d been gone for too long. What had happened to her? He knew he had no right to wonder after the way he’d disappeared. The fact that he’d done nothing to have the slightest contact all those years made things worse. But everytime he was near a phone and had a chance to communicate with her or anyone at the Mansion, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Too many memories, too many mistakes; too many “what ifs”…too much weakness.

After that, Erik’s stunt at the security check-point and the Professor’s appearance had stripped him from any hesitation of what to do. He’d listened in awe as Charles and Magneto told him that they were there to take him back to the Mansion.

Now, after the first wave of shock was gone, Logan was sitting in the back of a black SUV which Erik was driving, being informed about everything that took place during his absence. And the one question that all these years had drilled itself into his mind, keeping him up at nights, wanting to press “dial” after he’d punched the buttons to form a certain phone number…was still unanswered.

“Logan?” the Professor called. “Are you alright?”

“Huh?” Logan jerked from the sudden comeback to reality. “Uhhh…yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…too much shit to deal with in one take, that’s all.” 

The Professor turned to him with a wry smile. “I understand. I suppose seeing me alive after all those years you thought I was dead – and with Erik by my side of all people – was overwhelming enough.”

Logan nodded, still feeling a bit numb. “Are you gonna tell me now how the hell you‘ve done that? I saw you turning into pieces for Christ’s sake! And because of _that_ asshole!” Logan sneered at Erik, who gave him a blunt look from the rear mirror. 

“Logan please, try to calm yourself,” Charles coaxed him. “I understand your agitation, but as I’ve been telling you, it’s been almost 4 years since you left. Many things have changed; and along with these things, so did the people who were affected by them.”

“So what, we trust him now?’’ Logan said lifting an eyebrow.

“Yes,” the Professor responded, not leaving room for arguments. “As for how I’m still alive…does it really matter at this point?”

Logan rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I suppose not…” he sighed defeated. Healing factor or not, flying was never fun and everything that happened after he landed was taking too much energy for him to process. He felt exhausted. Still, there were questions that wouldn’t leave him alone.

“How long since you…came back?” he asked.

“It took me a few weeks to return to Westchester. Until then, life was almost back to normal at school. But not in the rest of the world, I’m afraid. Hank was doing an excellent job restoring the mutant reputation as ambassador, and Storm along with Bobby and Kitty where also contributing in every way they could. Sadly, as it appeared a few months later, that was not enough,” the Professor concluded.

“You‘ve been dealing with all that shit for years?” Logan asked surprised. “Why didn’t you try to find me sooner?”

“Why haven’t _you_ tried to reach _us_ sooner? Haven’t you heard all these years what was taking place? Or were you trying _not_ to listen?” Erik jumped into the conversation.

Not knowing how to respond to this, Logan let out a low growl.

“Erik…” Charles said quietly, and Erik stayed silent for the rest of the drive. “Logan, after I returned, Storm informed me about everything; what took place at Alcatraz Island and your departure. And from your reluctance to communicate, I figured you needed time alone without any intrusion – especially from people who would bring back painful memories. Besides, I did not think there was anything I, or anyone else, could do to help you at that time. You wouldn’t listen; so I decided to let you be until you were ready to return by your own decision,” the Professor explained.

“So what, you’ve been tracking me down all this time? That’s how you knew I was coming back?” Logan asked.

“Let’s just say I always keep an eye on my people,” Charles answered vaguely. “And I consider you one of my people, Logan; part of the X-Men.”

Logan felt a twinge of guilt. Charles Xavier was the only person who had offered his help to him back when all he had was a trashy trailer and a mind filled with nightmares and broken images from a past long lost. He had taken him in, given him hope and not once had ever asked for anything in return for everything he had offered. Up until that point, the Professor was the only other person he had ever treated Logan with respect, who had cared about him. He and…

At that thought, Logan cleared his throat. “You said Storm, Kitty and Iceprick – Bobby! – were helping Hank do some damage control?” Logan said, wincing a bit at the Professor’s glare at Bobby’s nickname.

“Yes,” Charles responded curtly.

“What, uhhh…what about the rest?” Logan asked hesitantly, staring at Erik’s back cautiously.

“Everyone is alright, Logan, I assure you,” the Professor said, sensing his uneasiness.

A few quiet moments passed, before Logan felt the Professor’s mind slightly pressing on his own. “ _Logan, my friend, I remember how uncomfortable this way of communication makes you feel, but I can sense that you hesitate to ask questions you need them to be answered because of Erik’s presence. If you cannot wait until we reach the Mansion, you can ask me anything you want mentally and I will answer you._ ”

Logan was a bit wary about this, but since Erik’s ears would stay away from their talk, was good enough for him.

He took a deep breath. “ _How’s the kid?_ ’’

“ _Rogue? She’s…doing well,_ ” Charles responded, unsure how much he should reveal.

At that name, Logan’s eyes shot up. “ _Rogue?_”

His surprise made Charles give him a look of confusion from the rear mirror. “ _Yes, Logan; Rogue_ ”.

“ _Is that the name she goes by now?_ ” Logan asked dazed.

“ _Was there ever a time during her stay at the Mansion that she used another?_ ” the Professor asked equally puzzled.

“ _No! No. I just…_ ” Logan stopped. He didn’t know what to say. He brought to his mind the night she’d left to take the cure. She seemed so determined. So willing to take the risk; so vulnerable.

_I want to be able to touch people, Logan. A hug…a handshake…a kiss…_

And then the way she looked at him when he treated her like an equal, like the young woman she was…

_I’m not your father, I’m your friend._

He knew she hadn’t been a kid long before that night. But, he never truly realized it until then. Had he known how things would turn out, he would’ve acted differently. He wouldn’t have let her go. He would’ve tried harder to make her stay. He would’ve gone with her. He would’ve said…

Logan shook his head. He didn’t know why, but for some reason the way Charles had said that she was fine made the animal growl in suspicion. The girl he knew had left the school determined to be someone else, someone… _normal_. The fact that she was still called Rogue in absence of any other known name didn’t sound right. Something was off and the closer they were getting to the Mansion, the more he was thinking that the Professor had told him a lot about the events that happened while he was gone, but he’d carefully kept information about the people. And that wasn’t good.

Erik crossed the gates of the school, and Logan focused his attention at the gardens and the impressive building that was rising before him, remembering all the times he’d spent in it. The good; the bad; the painful.

Right before the SUV entered the school’s garage, Logan couldn’t help the ominous feeling rising within him, thinking the name Charles had called her with;

_Rogue? She’s…doing well._

Logan focused on the last time he saw her before she left. What he’d told her and the way she responded. Her hope in her eyes and how bright her smile was when she answered him with one word; one name that no one knew, but him;

_Think about what I said Rogue._

Marie.

_Marie…_

He stepped out of the car, replaying this one line again and again.

 _Rogue? She’s…doing well_.

_What happened to her?_


	7. Change of weather...change of heart*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a re-posting chapter from "the Return of She-King". Feel free to skip it if you do not wish to re-read.
> 
> I feel compelled to apologize for re-posting chapters from my previous fic, but as i aforementioned, this story is - in a way - an extended version of the same plot. Given this, i didn't want the readers to feel forced to go back and read the original fic, nor i wanted to leave any plot gaps that might cause confusion. This only happens in the first few chapters, so i ask for your patience and understanding. I would also like to assure you that there will be a brand new chapter posted before or after every re-post.

The blue sky accompanied by few white clouds foreboded a lovely, peaceful day – a sign that spring was reaching its peak. Yet, despite the warmth the sun offered to the people beneath, it could still not chase away the tempest of ominous feelings that threatened to rise within the weather witch.

Her crystal blue eyes rose up and let the cool breeze that had snuck inside her office through the open window caress her lovely face, which was now slightly tampered with worry. Worry for Rogue, for Logan, for the decision that was made rashly and within too little time, and involved both of them.

Ororo couldn’t shake the doubt within her after her conversation with Hank about informing Rogue of Logan’s return was over. She kept replaying the words Hank had told her again and again. The way Rogue had responded to this little “scheme’’ of theirs about the Professor’s intentions had made her feel a wave of guilt.

Storm was not a stranger to this feeling when it came to the young woman. Four years had passed since that forsaken day the “ _cure’’_ – as they called it – had appeared, and even though she never showed Rogue her sorrow about the decision she had made, she was still burdened by the words and accusations she had used to describe the ones that would choose to take it.

Sighing heavily, she shut her eyes and lowered her head, shaking it slightly with shame. She had no right to judge. She had no right to condemn. What did she know about the mutants that chose to take the cure? What did she know about their struggles, and the heavy price of the powers they possessed? Hank was right. How was it cowardness to wish for a life where you felt you belong? Where people weren’t staring at you like you were some kind of monster? Where your _own people_ , your fellow mutants weren’t treating you like an outsider – even though they knew what that felt like?

Storm knew she was wrong to react the way she did, to attack like that. But it was a dark time, where her mind and heart were blurred by a cloud of anger. First Jean, who was like a sister to her, was gone, sacrificing herself to save all of them when the humans – once more – were trying to decimate the mutants from the face of this earth; and then Scott had followed. Day after day, the man who was the X Men’s leader, and a beloved friend, was losing himself to his grief over the woman he loved and had lost, and Storm could do nothing but watch him slowly fade away. The announcement of the cure was the final straw in a series of events she felt responsible for not been able to put to a halt.

But still, she had no right to heavy Rogue’s shoulders with her blame. She had already been through so much, and the way Ororo had responded – even though she was hoping Rogue would see it as a sign of support to her – had only made things worse for the young girl. Storm looked back at that moment when she stood up, preaching to the other mutants in Charles’ office – all of them “gifted” with powers that came with a high cost – and remembered Rogue’s face when she claimed that nothing was wrong with any of them. Suddenly the regret felt too great, and the tempest within she was struggling to control, made its existence known by painting the white clouds above the Mansion grey.

The sky let out a rumble of disappointment, vocalizing Storm’s mood, when she heard a small creak as her half closed door opened a bit wider. She turned her head and saw Rogue approaching with a mischievous look in her eyes, a sneaky grin on her lips and her hands raised graciously in a ‘’I surrender’’ gesture.

“Hold your thunder, weather goddess,” she said as she approached slowly, pretending she was trying to be careful. “I come in peace.”

Storm’s smile lit her face and warmed her sapphire eyes, while she turned around to greet her friend.

“You are one of the few people that will never have to worry about attracting any of my thunder, Rogue,” she clarified, and decided to tease back. “Though I cannot make any promises about rainbows.”

Rogue’s mischievous expression turned into a tender one as her hands lowered, giving Storm the opportunity to experience a rare moment where Rogue gave a glimpse of the person she once was.

The younger woman let the white stripes of her hair fall back as she raised her head slightly to look at the troubled weather. “Can this upcoming drizzle be avoided or should I tell everyone to keep their umbrellas close?”

Storm peered behind her shoulder and realized what her foul mood had caused. “Oh,” she exclaimed, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry about that.” Within seconds, her silent command cleared the sky and the sun was back in all its brightness.

She turned back to Rogue and took a better look at her. She was different than she was this morning. She’d changed into high-heeled, knee boots in dark green color, black leather tights and a green, sleeveless turtleneck blouse. Long, black leather gloves were covering her hands all the way up to her arms. Her long hair framed her face, falling like a long curtain half way down her back, and she seemed like she was more cautious than usual.

Storm didn’t know what to make of this. She, herself, had changed as well after the end of the memorial. It was never a pleasant occasion to her – she preferred honoring her deceased loved ones in her own way, so the moment the service was over, she had traded her black clothes with favored white ones.

But with Rogue, nothing was _that_ simple after her return. It seemed as if everything she did and said had a hidden meaning, lying behind the words and actions. Even the way she dressed always felt like it had a secret purpose that targeted on extracting certain reactions.

Storm could practically see the wheels turning inside Rogue’s head, spinning too quickly with each passing moment for the weather whisperer to see what she had in mind. But she could guess what the purpose of her friend’s visit was. Before she managed to think of something to break the stretched silence, Rogue beat Ororo to it;

“I would offer a penny for them, but I know that your thoughts are far too expensive for me to afford,” Rogue humored.

“Knowing your powers and how singularly your mind works, that should be _my_ line,” Storm “retaliated”.

Rogue let out a small laugh and walked closer to the ebony woman. “I’m sorry I didn’t knock. Hank told me I‘d find you here, and the moment I saw the abrupt change of weather, I hurried up to check if you’re alright.”

“The door was half open anyway. And for you, it will always be wide open with me here to welcome you,” she smiled, and gave Rogue another look-over.

“You look lovely, as always. But are these really necessary?” she pointed at the long gloves with her eyes. “You rarely wear gloves this long anymore and you have no problem walking in the Mansion without wearing any sometimes,” she wondered.

Rogue’s pleasant facade dropped, and her grave mood’s ugly head appeared. “You know as well as I do that even though there haven’t been any ‘accidents’ since I came back, most of the residents only have to see me approach to recoil.”

“The majority of these ‘ _residents’_ don’t worth an inch of your time or attention,” Storm said angrily.

“True,” Rogue concurred. “The Brotherhood lackeys that chose to follow Erik here are as valid as their leader’s promises for ‘mutant superiority’. But it’s not them I’m talking about; and as much as I hate to admit it, whether they come from a friend or an enemy, words will always cut as deep as the sharpest blade, Ororo.”

Storm let that final sentence sink in. Rogue was right. It didn’t matter how many times you’ve been through the “bigotry treatment”. It didn’t matter how many walls you built, or how solid they were, to protect yourself from hatred and prejudice. It didn’t even matter when you succeeded to stop blaming yourself about it and grew strong enough to become immune to the pain. Harsh words always seemed to find a way to corrode the most resilient defenses – a proof that no matter how sturdy one’s confidence was, the most humane parts of us always lead back to doubt.

The weather witch felt sorrow engulfing her. She didn’t know what to say to help her friend let this go. What pained her the most though, was that after all this time Rogue had been back, not _once_ she ever called Storm with the nickname she was given long time ago; “’Ro”. 

After Rogue’s graduation and addition to the team, the former teacher had become a teammate and a close friend to the young female mutant. “Miss Monroe” was no longer appropriate, so Storm had asked Rogue to call her by her name. After sometime, and with Jean’s “absence”, Ororo had found a new companion to the young girl and, in time, they had grown closer. Rogue using her nickname had come naturally and had remained this way; until the cure.

Even after enough time had passed, Rogue was still not inclined to use the familiar sobriquet she once used to call her with. It was always “Storm” – especially during missions – and “Ororo” during their private moments. It seemed almost insignificant, but Storm knew that it was an indication of Rogue’s constant wariness. Even after being in the Mansion for so long, she still trusted _no one_ entirely; and that hurt. 

Storm decided that she was treading on too thin of ice, so she took the conversation back to its original purpose. “Are you sure this is the reason you put those gloves on today – out of all the days you’ve been treated with skepticism everytime you expose your skin? Or is it because you want to be discreet about the progress you’ve made with your control?”

Rogue crossed her arms and walked towards the open window, standing next to Storm. “I know you talked with Hank after he and I finished our conversation. I felt it was necessary to have a similar one with you, but I have to warn you Storm...I’m not in the mood for mindgames,” Rogue pointed out with a sharp look at the ebony woman.

The weather witch looked at Rogue carefully, watching her becoming more distant. Her addressing Ororo with her code name didn’t go unnoticed either.

“I’m not in such mood either, Rogue, I assure you,” Storm responded calmly. “And like Hank, I feel the need to apologize if we made you feel uncomfortable about the way we handled the whole situation.”

Rogue sighed, bending her head slightly. “And I feel bad for making everyone thinking that I needed special treatment on this particular issue.” She lifted her head, looking the other woman straight in the eyes. “I’m not in need of rescuing, Ororo. Not anymore.”

Storm frowned, giving Rogue a stern look she hadn’t given her ever since she’d stopped being her teacher. “Is that what you think? That we didn’t consider you capable enough to deal with Logan’s return?” she scolded.

Rogue shrugged. “Isn’t that what all indications point at?”

“Did you stop to think for a moment that all indications were pointing that we _care_ about you enough to consider your feelings about this…‘blast from the past’?” Storm answered with a question.

Silence filled the room for long moments, until Rogue finally spoke. “I don’t have the luxury to think like that anymore. It’s a risk I can’t afford to take – no matter how much I _want_ to,” she confessed bitterly.

Storm was confounded. In all the conversations she had with Rogue – and they have been plenty – she never before had admitted, nor had shown her desire to be closer to any of them; not even to Jubilee, the only person who had been fully supportive of Rogue – no matter what choices she had made.

Storm turned to Rogue and put her hands on her gloved arms. “Rogue…” she said, letting her surprise be obvious; “child…how many times have we fought side by side, protecting each other? How many times have we shared secrets and parts of us very few have ever seen? After everything we’ve been through, you still have doubts about our love for you? About my loyalty? You even _saved_ my life-” Storm continued, but Rogue chimed in, cutting her off.

“You had saved _my_ life first, Ororo,” Rogue pointed out. “ _Twice_. If anything, I owed you as much.”

“You didn’t owe me anything. Not then, not now; not _ever_ ,” Storm said in a passionate tone.

Rogue took Storm’s hands in hers and held them tightly. “You think I feel any different? You were more than a savior to me, Ororo. You were a mentor, a teacher; and when the time came you also became a leader, a teammate and one of my closest friends. I know I don’t show it the way I probably should, but I don’t take your friendship or camaraderie lightly. I trust you with my _life_ , Ororo.” Rogue paused for a second and then continued. “But, no matter how hard I try, how much I want to…I can’t trust you with my heart; not entirely. Nor anyone else.” 

Storm looked heartbroken; not just for what Rogue had said, but mostly for the pain she let out, a pain apparently she’s been carrying all this time. “Is there any way – anything I can do to earn your full trust again?” she asked solemnly.

Rogue let Storm’s hands and interlaced her fingers, thinking of a way to explain so Ororo would see things from her perspective.

“What I’m about to say is something I’ve never confessed to anyone. But before I begin, I need you to understand that I’m not doing this to punish you; I’m telling you this because you deserve to know; and I need to finally let it go.”

Storm nodded. “I’m listening.”

Rogue took a deep breath. “When I was brought to the school by you and Scott, the Professor had assured me that I would be more than welcome and accepted by everyone. Since you were all mutants, and many of the other kids were also runaways like me, it wouldn’t be hard for them to understand and accept me as I was. But he was wrong.

I still remember the way everyone was staring at me the next morning after the incident in Wolverine’s bedroom. I still remember the whispers, the fear in everyone’s eyes. I just couldn’t take it. I went and sat at a corner at the rec room, watching some of the students playing foosball. I had a sandwich with me that I’d taken from the school’s cafeteria, and decided to eat it there. I started taking my gloves off, when I realized that all sounds and noises had gone dead. I lifted my head and saw everyone looking at my bare hands. You should’ve seen the look on their faces; God, they acted like I was holding a goddamn grenade!” Rogue hissed exasperated. “I left and went to sit alone on a bench outside. You remember what happened afterwards…”

Storm shook her head gravely, but said nothing.

“After the Statue of Liberty, the Professor advised me to be patient with the other students and try not to judge them. My ‘gift’ was so extreme, it made people feel… _intimidated_. It would take time, but eventually everyone would come to terms with it,” Rogue continued. “But they never did…

Things got better after I became close with Jubilee and Kitty, and Bobby was always there, trying to help me fit in and feel comfortable with my skin. But things didn’t change, Storm. Everytime I brushed accidentally up someone or everytime I took my gloves off to eat – even though I was always almost fully covered and extremely cautious – people would flinch and avoided any kind of proximity.”

Storm began to see what Rogue was dealing with all this time at the school. The Professor and the teachers all had assured her that she was part of their family and accepted in ways she was not on the outside world. But as it turned out, they had failed to make her feel that way.

“I was trying. I was trying really hard to control my skin, I really was; but the progress seemed too slow and there was always something holding me back – my doubts and fear that I’d never make it, the people that were trapped inside my head, my relationship with Bobby becoming more and more strained…” Rogue’s voice wavered a bit, and she stopped for a moment to pull herself together and out of the hurtful memories.

“And then when everything seemed like a lost cause, the cure came along. I shouldn’t have seen it as a lifeline, I know that _now_. But I was too young; and too desperate,” she finished in a self loathing tone.

Rogue looked up at Storm, who was now watching her with eyes filled with compassion and remorse. She swallowed hard and opened her mouth, but before she had the chance to say anything, Rogue continued.

“When I practically barged into the Professor’s office, asking about the cure, I knew I would raise objections and turmoil; what I didn’t expect was that the one who would raise them would be _you_.

During our sessions, the Professor had revealed to me that I was not the only one struggling with my powers. He mentioned Scott, and his permanent inability to control his mutation because of an accident; about Jean and how hard it was for her sometimes _not_ to listen to other people’s thoughts. About you and how you must constantly keep your feelings under control in order to avoid causing a natural disaster.

My mutation is psychosomatic Storm; when my mental or emotional state is off balance, it’s much harder to keep my skin at bay and absorption can be lethal within mere seconds. I managed to find the trick a couple of years ago, when I…at the lab; but as you already know, I still haven’t managed to perfect it,” Rogue finished, lowering her head in shame for lacking the strength to keep her power under control at all times.

“I thought that you of all people would understand, Ororo. You would understand and support me no matter what decision I was going to make. But instead-”

“I failed you,” Storm completed the sentence while a knot was forming in her throat.

Rogue shook her head. Her eyes were filled with grievance. “You didn’t fail me, Ororo. You made me feel like _I_ had failed _you_ ; _all of you_ ; and that broke my heart.”

Storm was speechless. She had no idea Rogue had felt like this. In Ororo’s mind, the one who was responsible for Rogue’s inability to allow her in again was her own stance towards the young mutant’s dilemma between keeping her powers and leading a “normal” life. She’d never imagined that Rogue had turned that situation into a meltdown that blamed entirely on herself.

“My family kicked me out of the house because of what I was. For _months_ after I had left I was blaming myself for it. For being…like _this_.” Rogue looked at her gloved hands in anger. “And then I came here, and I was _too_ _much_ of a freak to match the other freaks. And when the chance to become again something I _knew_ how to be came along, I failed the people I called family for the second time,” she muttered resigned.

“Rogue,” Ororo whispered. “I am _so_ sorry. I never meant for you to feel this way. My anger and objection against the cure had _nothing_ to do with your choice about it. I know I didn’t handle it in the best of ways, but I _never_ intended to place this load on you. What I said that day, I meant it. There is absolutely _nothing_ wrong with you, nothing for _them_ to cure. You were _perfect_ the way you were – with or without control. I believed this back then, and I believe it now as well,” Storm finished, determination setting fire on her speech.

Seeing how much Storm wanted her to believe her words, Rogue let a sad smile appear and gave a light touch to the woman’s dark face.

“Thank you, Ororo. I really appreciate you saying this. I did back then, and I do now. But it would’ve meant much more to me if you’d said those words while holding my _bare_ hand, instead of a gloved one,” she professed, and raised a covered hand in front of her to add more gravity to her words.

“I…I had no idea,” Storm said astonished by Rogue’s trials. The whole conversation was turning into a true revelation to her.

“Of course you didn’t,” Rogue told her, understanding coloring her words. “How could you when I let none of this out? I buried everything deep down, hoping that if I kept ignoring the problem it would just magically disappear. I made myself believe that the cure would instantly solve everything. That’s why I don’t want you to blame yourself. I told you before, l don’t mean to hurt you by letting you know; I’m just trying to let this go.”

The weather witch stayed silent. There was so much turmoil within her, so much she wanted to say to the woman in front of her that was becoming evident she knew so little about; but she didn’t. This wasn’t about her; it was about Rogue and she knew she had to encourage her to bring the rest to the light as well.

“After I took the cure and returned to the Mansion, I had this hope that things would get better. I wouldn’t have to struggle with control anymore; people wouldn’t have to be afraid of me; I could finally be back to the girl I once was. Until this decision backfired and forced me to see things the way they were…

Truth is, Ororo, I’ve been depending on people to fight my battles for too long. Expecting from others to protect me, understand me, defend my every action. All that because of the way I saw my powers. I victimized myself, convinced me that I deserve nothing but pity and repulsion, and everytime someone proved me wrong, I turned him into an object of worship.

I’ve placed people on pedestals and praised them, assuring myself that they would never prove me wrong. And after they started falling from their pedestals one by one, was when the truth hit me.”

“The truth?” Storm frowned confused.

“I was wrong, Ororo. I was wrong to expect from people to be perfect; to live up to the images I’d made for them, to never fail my expectations. I had no right to do that. We’re not gods; and we’re not supposed to be perfect either; being humans and retain the best parts of our humanity in a world so cruel and unfair is already hard enough. Putting people on a pedestal, _pushing_ them to stay on it was so unjust for me to do, because the only way they could go was down; as you all did…”

Storm realized that Rogue was not solely speaking about her. She could tell that many of those words and feelings were also for Logan. For the first time since she and Rogue became close, the young woman was finally putting a name to her feelings and admitting the reasons behind her teenage infatuation.

“I was angry for a long time,” Rogue continued. “With God; my family; all of you…” She paused for a moment and swallowed hard. “Wolverine,” she said through gritted teeth, and Storm could see that even now it was difficult for her to admit this.

“In time I realized that the one I was truly mad at, was _me_. Mad for my weakness, for being too much of a coward to push myself. Mad for my inability to take control over my power and my life. For settling with less, out of fear of not finding something more.”

Rogue lifted her head and looked at Storm. “You’re not the one that should be sorry, Ororo. It’s me. That was my cross to bear, and I had no right to ask from anyone else to lift it for me. You had _your_ pain, _your_ losses to deal with, and I wasn’t there for you; I couldn’t. But you never held me responsible for it and I don’t want to blame you or anyone else anymore either. I just…I’m _afraid_ to do this. In the past four years, people I loved and trusted – both mutants and humans – turned their back on me the times I needed them the most. I’ve seen and tasted too much betrayal and it’s too painful. If it happens again…I don’t think I’ll be able to go through with it.”

The tempest within Storm that was threatening to take control finally broke out, pouring rain drops out of the weather witch’s eyes. She opened her arms and took Rogue in them, holding her close in a warm embrace.

“Then don’t do it. Don’t force yourself. Let time heal your wounds. And let us show you that if you decide to trust us again, this time we won’t let you down,” Ororo promised, hoping that Rogue would feel this.

Rogue sensed the beginning of tears and tried to restrain them. She held the ebony woman tenderly, letting her gratitude and affection pour through her, and suddenly she felt lighter than she’d been in a long while.

“Hey,” Rogue said tenderly, caressing Storm’s back. “None of this, ‘Ro. You might not be on a pedestal anymore, existing for the sole purpose of pampering me, but you’re still the weather goddess remember?” she joked and Storm laughed, holding her tighter when she realized how Rogue had called her.

“Come on mistress of the elements; pull yourself together,” Rogue humored. “I already have enough people on my back for being who I am. I don’t need them to start on me for the cloudburst you’re gonna bring on if you keep like this.”

With that Storm let her go, a wide smile on her face as understanding and a quiet acceptance passed between the two. Rogue returned the warm smile and nodded; it was a good start.

Suddenly, Rogue turned her eyes outside the window. Storm turned her attention out as well, though she couldn’t see anything.

“What do you hear?” she asked.

“A car. Not too far from here. Probably two or three minutes before we see it driving through the gates,” Rogue said, her face concentrated to a sound that was too far for anyone with human senses to hear.

“The Professor?” Storm guessed.

Rogue shrugged a shoulder. “Do we expect anyone else?”

Both women stepped closer to the window and saw a black SUV approaching while the gates of the Mansion were slowly opening to welcome it in.

“I’ll go tell the others to prepare for the meeting we’re having in 30 minutes,” Storm said, and headed to the door. She stopped abruptly when she saw that Rogue had shown no intention to leave the office.

“Rogue? Are you coming?”

Rogue looked at her. A mask that showed absolutely nothing was back on her face.

“I’m right behind you.”

Storm walked back and placed her hands on Rogue’s delicate shoulders. She stared into her eyes and what she saw in there made her smile with pride. “You’ll be alright child.”

Rogue blinked and smiled back. “I will,” she said, and with a nod of her head she pointed outside the window. “Not so sure about _him_ though.”

The weather goddess laughed out loud and looked at her friend with a conspiratorial look. “Let _him_ worry about that; and the Professor. This was _his_ idea after all,” she winked at Rogue before leaving.

Rogue watched amused Storm depart, and then turned her focus again at the black car that was now heading to the garage. She stayed sullen for a while, collecting herself, preparing for the meeting that would take place in a while. This day had been extremely emotional, but feelings were not something she could afford with the upcoming “reunion”.

Still, she couldn’t keep a little smirk of excitement. As wary as she was about _him_ coming back, she couldn’t help but feeling intrigued by the challenge lying ahead. Four years were not usually considered a long time, but they were enough for her to fit in experiences and memories that others would need two lives to go through as much. She frowned. _Had he changed at all?_

She turned around, took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. Whoever he was now didn’t matter. None of this mattered anymore. It was time to leave this behind her. _For good._

“Here we go,” she whispered and walked out of the office with long, confident strides.


	8. Volte-face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Rogue reunite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, special thanks to Englishmajor226 for helping me bring this story to life
> 
> I hope posting three chapters (two re-posted and one brand new) at once will be enough to keep you company for the rest of the summer, since a new update will probably take place at fall. 
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy the playlist for this chapter  
> •Who am I now? – Rogue’s theme/X Men Evolution  
> •Krwlng – Linkin Park  
> •Cherry tree – The Duke Spirit  
> •Ain’t no rest for the wicked – Cage The Elephant  
> •Little thing gone wild – Black Rebel Motorcycle Club  
> •Motorcycle girl – Tito & Tarantula  
> •Testify – Carney

He tilted his head slightly to have a better view of the Mansion as the black SUV was coming through the gates. Logan let out a silent breath. The “School for the gifted” seemed as inalterable as ever, something he couldn’t say about himself.

After his eyes scanned the endless gardens and the kids that roamed them, he raised his eyes again at the Victorian style manor. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rising. This place seemed so undisturbed by time, it just didn’t feel right. He’d already been told that things had changed here, and from the way Charles was trying to avoid certain subjects, his gut couldn’t stop churning from all the warning signs.

Suddenly, movement caught his attention from one of the windows. A slim figure that seemed to belong to a woman was watching them approaching. He couldn’t tell who was from this distance, but he could almost feel this person’s eyes locked on him.

Before he was able to identify her, she stepped back and disappeared. He sat back in his seat again, growing restless as they were now reaching the garage door.

Logan turned and looked at the young Japanese woman who was sitting right next to him. Yukio hadn’t spoken a word from the moment they met with Charles and Magneto at the airport, aside from the typical exchanges. She remained silent during his conversation with Xavier, aside from some inquisitive glances. She did that everytime she was curious about something he wasn’t willing to share. Still, familiar with his attitude as she was, she never asked and always waited for him to initiate a conversation to get the chance to learn more things about Logan’s life…if he chose to.

Yukio looked back at him. She offered a smile, and he gave her a grin. He let his head fall back on the seat and closed his eyes. Six years ago, he’d been brought in this place while accompanied by a young girl that had found him in a bar, saved his ass and “forced” her company on him. Three years ago, history had repeated itself in another sink, with only some slight differences.

His heart kicked in his chest. _No_. There was one thing that made a world of difference. And there was nothing slight about it.

The young woman that’d found him in a dive three years ago had motivated him to stand up and put his one foot after the other. He’d followed her on a journey where he met someone that helped him heal, believe again and reconnect with himself.

The young girl he’d met six years ago in a hellhole up in Laughlin City had done something more than that; she had motivated him into start living.

_I saved your life!_

_No, you didn’t._

He had lied. She _had_ saved his life. And not because she’d spared his back from the knife of that asshole who had tried to sheath it there. She’d saved him from a constant struggle for survival, a never-ending lonely existence where he cared about nothing and no one besides his own neck. She’d made him care again. _Feel_. And he doubted she even knew how and in what ways she’d rescued him before he got the chance to return the favor.

The garage door opened slowly, and Erik drove in. Logan half checked him through the reflection of the windshield. He’d exchanged only a few words with the man, while the Professor was trying to convince him that they were all on the same side now. Logan gritted his teeth. The first thing he wanted to do when he saw him at the airport was to bury his claws in him. He didn’t apologize afterwards nor did he regret. His instinct had never failed him before and, ally or not, as far as he was concerned, Magneto was bad news.

He wondered how Rogue felt when she witnessed the man she saw as a father, forging an alliance with the man who’d tried to kill her. A low growl escaped him as he reminisced that night on the Statue of Liberty. Rogue pleading for help. Screaming in pain. Lying dead in his arms. A young girl – not even 18 years old – treated like a weapon; just like _he_ had 15 years prior.

The growl turned into a snarl. Luckily, the noise from the engine while Erik was parking killed the sound that gave away his anger. Only Yukio heard it and sent him a dubious look. He turned his face the other way and grabbed the door handle to jump out of the SUV, when Charles spoke in his mind.

_Logan._

He flinched and glared at him irritated.

_Forgive my intrusion, but your thoughts echo too loud._

Logan cleared his throat awkwardly and loosened his grip on the handle, waiting now for Erik to stop the engine before he opened the door.

_Yeah, sorry about that. Guess I’m a little tired from the flight…and a bit out of shape when it comes to telepaths._

The Professor smiled kindly, keeping his stare at front and their private conversation unnoticed.

_It’s alright, my friend. It seems that I was not as well prepared for our reunion as I thought I’d be either. I just wanted to appease your worries about Erik’s and Rogue’s coexistence at the Mansion. As I already told you, the hatchet between the Brotherhood and the X Men has been buried for some time now. I’m not going to pretend that there haven’t been moments where the newfound bonds have been stretched. But we all fight the same war now, and this helps to make the transition from foes to friends in a more solid way._

_And the kid’s alright with it?_ Logan insisted.

Charles gave him a strange look through the front mirror, and a sly grin formed discreetly on his lips.

_Rogue has her ways when it comes to ‘cashing out old debts’. If I were you, I wouldn’t be worrying about Rogue being in the same room with her old nemesis; I’d worry more about Erik._

Logan was taken aback from Charles’ words and reaction. The kind, quiet old man who despised skirmishes and was a champion of conversation and peaceful solutions, looked like the cat who was about to swallow the canary – almost _proud_ about the fact that Rogue had apparently taken her draw blood from the old dickhead.

 _Rogue?_ Payback _? You’re telling me she’s powerful enough to take on Magneto?_

 _What the_ fuck _???_

He kept staring at the co-driver’s seat, waiting for an answer, when Erik exited the car to go and help his old friend. The Professor cut the connection and opened his door, making clear he wasn’t going to share more.

Logan grunted and got out to get Charles’ wheelchair and his duffle bag from the trunk. Yukio followed, snatching her bag as she made room for Logan to place the wheelchair next to Xavier’s seat.

They were heading towards the elevator, when Charles turned to Logan once more.

“Logan,” he said, and Logan halted, while Erik and Yukio wondered what was wrong.

“If you’re not too weary, would you mind continuing our conversation before you retire to your room? There are a few more matters I’d like to discuss with you.”

Logan looked at Yukio and then back at Charles. “Sure. Not feeling like calling it a day yet anyway.”

“Good,” Xavier nodded. “Erik, Yukio, what I’m about to say to Logan concerns you as well on a certain level, but if you wish to excuse yourselves, I understand.”

“I’m everything but tired Charles, I assure you. Besides, you’re not the only one who needs to have a discussion with Wolverine,” Magneto said.

The Professor gave him a stoic look, but said nothing. He turned to Yukio instead. “And you, my dear? Will you accompany us?”

Yukio glanced at Logan and he shrugged one shoulder as if he was saying “your call”. She looked back at the man her friend seemed to respect and appreciate like no one she’d seen before.

“I’d be happy to join you.”

“Excellent,” Charles smirked satisfied, as the elevator doors opened to take everyone up, where the Professor’s office was waiting for them.

……

Logan paced around the room, mentally processing the information Xavier was sharing with him. Erik and Yukio had remained mostly silent, Erik watching Logan’s reactions, and Yukio taking notes of the conditions she was going to live in from now on as part of the everyday life at the Mansion.

Logan stopped and leaned on the wall, crossing his arms tightly in front of his chest.

“I don’t like this,” he shook his head. “You took a huge risk with this ‘alliance’, Charles.”

“Logan, try to focus less on the former situation, and more on what we’re dealing with _now_ ,” the Professor emphasized.

“Charles is right, Wolverine,” Erik cut in. “You’ve been gone for several years. Things – _and_ people – as you knew them changed; or do not exist anymore.”

Logan glowered at him. “So, what? We’re buddies now? We fight the good fight together? Until when? How long before you decide we’re not handy anymore and feed us to the fuckin’ dogs?”

Erik looked at him sternly. His next sentence was sent to Charles mentally.

 _Needless to say I’m having a very unpleasant déjà-vu at this very moment,_ he glanced at the Professor carefully.

Xavier returned the stare.

 _It was inevitable. Both Logan_ and _Rogue almost lost their lives at Liberty Island. And, as I already told you, they share a very strong connection. I’m afraid we’re going to repeat the same conversation we had a year ago all over again._

 _You think it’s going to work like it did with Rogue?_ Erik asked.

 _As much as it_ did _work,_ Charles responded.

“If you two are going to telepathically whisper to each other, what the hell did you call me in here for?” Logan snapped.

The connection was cut abruptly, leaving both men looking self-conscious.

“Yes, my apologies, Logan,” The Professor brought his hands together reserved. He had forgotten how observant Logan could be with his feral senses and experience. They had to be more careful.

“What Erik and I need you to realize is that the former clash between the X Men and the Brotherhood came to an end the moment we realized we’re facing a much more dangerous, _common_ , threat. Old quarrels are meaningless in the face of potential global extermination,” he explained.

“Besides,” Erik added, “my ‘quarrel’ was never with the X Men. Our cause was always the same. It was the disagreement on which was the best way to accomplish it that brought any discord between us. I chose to take a different path than the one Charles followed, but _never_ was my primary goal to go against other mutants.”

“Unless they’d be used for your own gain, right?” Logan sneered.

Hearing those words, Charles tensed. He was afraid it would eventually come down to this. Logan was not the kind of man to let things go. He was relentless; unforgiving. And his extended life span made him capable to hold a grudge for a very long time.

Erik braced himself. “I assume this is about Rogue, isn’t it?”

Logan straightened and took a step closer. “You got that right.”

“As I clarified to her, it was never personal. I did what I had to do to protect our kind. I wish I wouldn’t have to use such extreme measures, but sacrifices need to be made – as you’ve already seen yourself,” Erik stated.

Logan walked towards him, stopping only a hairbreadth away.

“Next time you feel so determined to make sacrifices for your fuckin’ cause, make sure _you_ ’ll be the one to do them instead of forcing an innocent kid switch places with you,” he hissed.

“I’ve already had that lecture given to me, my boy; and in a _much_ more effective way,” Erik said ironically. “I can assure you that she knows how to make her point clear _far_ better than you’ll ever manage.”

Logan flinched and put some distance between them. He looked at Charles, who rushed to end things there.

“Logan, please,” he said and showed one of the chairs, asking him to sit down. Yukio was now standing too, her eyes flying from one man to the other, unsure how to respond.

“What the hell is he talkin’ about?” Logan growled.

Erik was unable to let the opportunity to stir the waters slip.

“Let’s just say that the ‘innocent kid’ you so determinately want to protect, is the last person in this place who needs protection – _especially_ from me.” 

“Erik!” the Professor chimed in and continued in a calmer tone. “That’s enough. Logan, _please_. Have a seat; you too, Erik. We’re here to settle the current situation between us, not rehash old enmities. This is the last thing we need at this moment.”

Charles let his words sink in. He watched as both men stepped away from each other carefully, sitting on the chairs closest to his desk. Logan beckoned to Yukio to sit down as well, while the Professor waited for all of them to calm.

“Logan,” he said again. “I understand that it is hard for you to accept the way things are now, but the past _is_ the past and I can assure you that when I say this, I speak on behalf of _everyone_ who lives in the Mansion,” he concluded, implying Rogue’s consent about it.

Logan kept staring at him, making obvious he wasn’t convinced. He clenched his jaw and after another glare to Magneto, he finally nodded. 

“Fine; I’ll take your word about this…‘alliance’, and won’t try to gut him – or his assholes – as long as they stay here,” he pointed at Erik with his head, only to receive a challenging smirk.

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t be keeping an eye on him, or that I’m gonna buy that Rogue, and everyone else, are ok with it,” Logan made clear.

The Professor nodded. “I was aware that it would probably take you some time to reconcile with the new conditions; take as much as you need. And perhaps, seeing your old friends and teammates will help this…transition as well.”

“Now that you mentioned it, where the hell is everybody?” Logan asked.

“I’m afraid it has been a long day, and it’s not even over yet. This morning we had a memorial service for the ones we’ve lost the past three years. It takes place every year this particular day,” Charles informed him.

It had been decided that the Memorial Day would be the one the Professor’s burial had taken place long ago. The X Men kept this sad tradition in memory of the lost loved ones after Nightcrawler’s and Rogue’s insistence.

Logan lowered his eyes. A sense of uneasiness rose within him. “I see,” he murmured.

He’d noticed the small cemetery while Erik was driving through, but he’d forced himself to look away immediately. He’d made peace with the past long ago, but it was still hard to see the remnants. Perhaps in time…

Charles’ voice took him out of his thoughts and Logan quickly – and relieved – brought his attention back to present.

“And there is also a War Room meeting taking place in a while for a mission that is occurring tomorrow; so you see, our hands are a bit full,” the Professor finished with a mildly apologetic expression.

Logan’s eyebrow lifted as his curiosity spiked. He hadn’t been on a mission for years. Memories flooded him from times that life seemed less complicated, when one could tell the enemies from friends.

He couldn’t help himself, so he made the question. “What kind of m-”

Before he was able to finish the sentence, his focus went swiftly to the noise behind the closed door. His stance gave away his alertness, as his hearing picked up the hasty pacing and tense voices that were getting closer to Charles’ office – distinguishing one in particular.

The Professor, sensing the three individuals, realized what it was that had made Logan freeze in his place.

Yukio was alarmed as well. “What’s wrong?” she asked, and Erik looked at Charles puzzled.

Charles took a deep breath and gave a warning look to Erik before staring meaningfully at the door. The footsteps – as well as the voice of a woman – coming towards them became more distinct, and Erik realized why both men were suddenly filled with so much tension.

“Come in, Rogue,” the Professor said before there was a knock on the door. He could tell something was wrong from the strain he was receiving.

Rogue opened the door and strode in quickly, followed by Avalanche and Tattoo. “Erik; Professor,” she addressed them both tersely, as she kept walking towards them. “I’m sorry for the interruption, but there’s been a turn of events.”

Logan had practically jumped up the moment Rogue rushed in. He was standing still on the spot, eyes wide, like a deer in headlights. His attention was fully on the woman in front of him, barely recognizing her as the young, reckless girl that had snuck into his trailer – and his life – so long ago. The people and everything surrounding him felt like they were miles away, while his senses and every bit of him were taking in all the changes, trying to process each and every one.

Yukio was watching Logan’s reaction amazed. In all the years she’d spent with him, he’d never reacted like this before. Aside from aggressiveness, reservation and anger, he rarely displayed any emotion, and he’d exhibited a form of affection to her enough times that could be counted on the fingers of one hand.

But this…this was something completely new – a response she’d never witnessed anyone educe from him.

She took a long look at the woman who was ignoring both their presence. During one of those unique times Logan was willing to talk about his past, he had mentioned a girl he’d met right before he’d landed on the X Men. He hadn’t said much about her, seeming as if it was too hard for him to bring this person up. But she remembered the way his eyes had softened while he spoke of her with a tone of nostalgia; how his lips had curled into a soft smile, and his whole stance seemed more relaxed and serene. She’d never seen him like that – not even with Mariko; and the fact that just a single memory of someone could bring out of him so much tenderness, made her wonder what kind of person was that to have such power over _Kuzuri_.

Charles and Erik had looked at each other knowingly when Rogue had walked in, acting like no one else but the two men was in the room. Both of them peeked at Logan, whose reaction had caught all of them off guard.

Slowly overcoming the initial shock, Logan spoke first.

“Christ, kid is that really _you_?” he panted.

Rogue gritted her teeth. She was still standing in front of the Professor’s desk, staring at him. She had tried to prepare herself for this reunion by being as indifferent and emotionally distant as possible. She’d rationalized her agitation by saying to herself it was only natural to feel like this, seeing someone she knew after all these years of absence. While she was walking down the hall to the Professor’s office with Tattoo and Avalanche, her heart began beating faster and more unstable; she justified that too, claiming that the new information she was about to share was a game changer that might upturn things in a way they didn’t expect.

She turned towards the man who’d been gone for so long, the man who’d saved her life and ‘scarred’ her mind a cold night years ago, who’d stirred so many feelings within her – both good and bad.

She didn’t let herself look at him too closely. He was just a passerby; someone who’d returned only to leave again after a short stay. He wasn’t a friend. To her, he wasn’t even an ally.

“Hello Logan,” she muttered with the same tension he had. She winced at the display of emotion the tone of her voice gave away, chiding herself for it. Avalanche and Tattoo looked at each other baffled. _Who the hell was this guy?_

Logan finally gave a reaction – an honest smile that appeared on the corner of his mouth and kept getting wider. He took a step forward, and his hands began to lift towards her.

Rogue was standing equally still, until the moment she saw him reaching for her. She turned her back to him and quickly strode behind the desk to get closer to the Professor, and as far away from him.

Logan stopped dead on his track, his hands lowering until they ended up hanging heavily on his sides, as he watched her forlorn walking away. His smile disappeared, and all the emotions that swarmed him when he saw her were instantly shot down.

Charles’ eyes gave Logan an uneasy look, feeling almost apologetic on behalf of Rogue. Yet, he couldn’t not acknowledge how distressed she seemed. Avalanche and Tattoo were quite strained as well.

“What’s going on, Rogue?” he asked.

She pursed her lips, hesitating to speak. “I’d rather have this conversation in private, if you don’t mind,” she suggested in a low voice.

“What is it, Rogue? Is it about the mission?” Erik interfered as he approached them.

Rogue’s head snapped towards him, not expecting Magneto to talk so openly. The Professor rushed to explain.

“Rogue, if this is about the mission indeed, there is no reason for privacy. I have already informed Logan about it, though not in detail. But, you still may speak freely. There won’t be any issue.”

Rogue pierced him with a cold stare, as if he’d committed a grave mistake. Charles expected this kind of reaction and held his ground. She let out an exasperated sigh and eventually nodded, talking straight to his mind. _Fine; have it your way_.

“I got a call a moment ago; it seems that one of my contacts has come across with people who are involved with tomorrow’s mission. From what I was told, there’s extra information we can use – about the extractions in particular.”

“How so?” Erik asked.

Rogue sent him a meaningful look. “Apparently a couple more mutants were apprehended few days ago and were transferred to the targeted facility; from the description I was given, it seems that they’re mutants who were part of the Brotherhood three years ago.”

Erik eyed Charles with surprise and a hint of expectation that didn’t escape Rogue, nor the Professor. He then addressed Rogue again.

“Who are they?”

Rogue shook her head. “Can’t say; I broke the communication before more information was shared. Some conversations are best to happen face-to-face. The phone line I got the call from was not secure, and I wasn’t going to take any chances.”

“I assume you came to tell me that you are meeting this person in the flesh?” the Professor concluded.

“Yes,” Rogue confirmed, “but that’s not the only reason, Professor.”

Charles’ expression gave away his query, and Rogue paused for a brief moment. She wasn’t sure about the two men’s reaction for what she was going to say.

Everyone in the room looked at her and waited.

Rogue inhaled deeply. “I want you to postpone tomorrow’s mission,” she finally requested.

Erik’s brows jumped up, and the Professor lied back on his chair bemused.

“ _Postpone_ the mission?” Erik exclaimed.

Rogue turned so both men were within her eye peripheral. She glanced back at Avalanche and Tattoo who were still standing near the door. Avalanche beckoned her to pressure. Clearly this was a decision made on the spot.

“Give me 36 hours to see what this is about. My contact wouldn’t call if this wasn’t essential. This person is one of the _very_ few I fully trust; if it claims this tip is important for the mission and its outcome, then that’s how it is and I need to check on it,” she insisted.

“My dear, you have been preparing this mission for _months_ , and now you ask us to defer it?” Erik was still taken aback.

Logan was listening carefully. Whatever this mission was about, it was clearly way too important to have any last minute turnarounds.

“I wouldn’t if I didn’t think it was vital, Erik. You said it yourself; I’ve been preparing this mission for too long – Avalanche and Storm with me as well. I’m not going to ignore new data for the sake of time schedule. The worst thing we can do now is be impatient. We have readjusted mission plans literally the last minute before, and they’ve been successful. You know why? Because every single detail was taken under consideration. I’m not gonna start jeopardizing lives now,” she declared.

“Rogue,” Charles cut in. “You have enough experience to know that not every element can be fully controlled. Isn’t it more dangerous to delay, given that a missed opportunity may deprive us a second chance to accomplish this mission?”

“Professor, I can’t control every single factor, but I _can_ control what I know and what I don’t; please. Give me the time I asked. I know my sources, and I know what my gut tells me. It has never failed me – except the times I chose to ignore it,” she pointed out.

Xavier and Erik were considering it, when Storm and Hank barged in, and every conversation stopped. Obviously, they had assumed that a welcoming was taking place, instead of an argument.

Both X Men smiled brightly as they strode towards Logan; Storm was the first one to open her arms wide open, with Logan giving her an honest friendly smirk that reached his eyes.

“Logan! It’s so good to see you again!” Ororo exclaimed, holding him tightly.

“You too, Storm,” he said gently, reciprocating the gesture. Logan didn’t expect to feel so good by the warm welcoming, but he had to admit that he was happy to be accepted so openly after Rogue’s cold reaction.

“Logan, my boy! Welcome back!” Hank roared, with a strong handshake and a friendly pat on Logan’s back. “Long time no see, hey?”

“Too long, Blue. Good to be back again,” Logan said, unable to stop smiling. Watching Storm and Hank’s joy made him realize how much he’d missed his friends and being part of something bigger and more important.

“We missed you dearly here,” Ororo verbalized hers and Hank’s shared feelings.

Logan nodded. “Same, ‘Ro.”

His eye caught Yukio, who had moved a bit further after the two mutants’ “invasion”, looking a bit reserved. Logan cursed himself. Rogue’s sudden appearance and attitude had thrown him off so much, he’d forgotten all about her. _Shit_.

“Uhhh, this is Yukio,” he said raising a hand towards her. “A good friend I met coupla years ago.”

Ororo and Hank introduced themselves properly after apologizing embarrassed for being so negligent.

Charles was watching the whole scene with great interest, until a feeling of chagrin swathed him. He saw Rogue looking somber at the way her friends were greeting Logan. Her eyes were grim, holding a bitterness he hadn’t seen in her since her return to the Mansion, when the welcoming of several mutants wasn’t so warm. He wondered if those feelings were a result of the fact that, unlike her, Logan was at the end of a very endearing reception.

Storm sensed the different vibe, and noticed the guarded way Rogue held herself. Her smile dropped a bit and shifted towards her, as Hank mimicked her gesture.

“Rogue I’m sorry I didn’t address you sooner, but it’s been so long since Logan has been with us. Isn’t it wonderful he’s back?” Ororo prompted her.

Logan looked at her cautiously, waiting for a reaction.

Rogue dropped her gaze as if she was trying to decide how to respond. When her eyes lifted again an impossibly tight smile appeared, leaving no doubt to anyone of how forced it was.

Storm fell silent and Hank shifted uncomfortably. They knew this reunion was going to be difficult, but now that it was happening before their eyes, it felt like they were all standing on a landmine.

Rogue’s focus suddenly shifted towards the Japanese red-haired woman who was staring at her this whole time. She was trying so hard to ignore Logan’s presence, that somehow she’d managed to pay attention to nothing else in the room. It was not only reckless – given that she was trained to always be aware of her surroundings – but also incredibly rude. She could practically hear her Southern upbringing berating her, and felt her cheeks flush in response.

She gave a kind, shy smile and nodded slightly. “Hello,” she said in a calm, sweet tone.

“Hello,” Yukio replied.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier,” Rogue apologized numbly. “I’m afraid you caught us at a bad time. The news I wanted to share was so urgent, that I completely forgot my manners.”

“It’s alright; I understand,” Yukio responded cordially.

Rogue snapped out of her numbness and approached her. She bowed first and then reached a gloved hand towards her. “I’m Rogue.”

“Yukio,” she said bowing as well, and then taking the hand she was offered.

“Welcome to the X Mansion. Is your first time here in America?”

“No I’ve been here before. First time in this place though,” Yukio smiled.

Rogue requited the gesture. “I’m sure the Professor has already told you that, but you are most welcome here.”

“Thank you; you are very kind,” Yukio answered with genuine affinity.

Rogue turned to the two mutants everyone seemed to have forgotten they were still in the room. “Yukio, this is Dominikos Petrakis; we call him Avalanche,” she said, as Avalanche exchanged a nod with Yukio.

“Next to him is Tattoo. They’re my teammates; and good friends,” Rogue finished, while Tattoo’s only response was a curt “hey”.

Logan was dazed. He was back after all these years, and all he got was a plain “hello” and a blunt rejection in the form of a back turn. Yukio on the other hand, seemed to be the receiver of a heartfelt welcome. He was glad Storm and Hank had both been so friendly and soulful about his return, but he couldn’t get over how blatantly Rogue had ignored him; or how much attention she was paying to Yukio, whom she’d just met. He couldn’t help a sting of jealousy about Yukio monopolizing her interest, when he was the one who should’ve been on the receiving end of it.

The disappointment from Rogue’s treatment dissipated his initial surprise, giving him the chance to take a better look at her.

Time had changed her appearance in ways that were absolutely natural for a girl of her age, yet he had a hard time registering this.

Long, lean legs wrapped in leather, that led to a green covered willowy torso caught his attention first; his eyes, unable to stop their roaming, climbed higher to her ivory graceful arms that were in black leather as well.

His pupils dilated as he drank her physique in; the luscious curves of a woman and the hardened muscles of a warrior, both residing in one body. He could practically see it thrumming with power – a power he had sensed since the first time they’d met.

He took a peek at her long alabaster neck, which led his stare straight to her beautiful face. Where soft adolescent curves once lay, now were sharp edges and bold lines that seemed to both compete and complete each other. The innocence in her doe brown eyes had been replaced with a fierceness that reminded him of predators. _Eyes of a wolf_ , he thought, and a shiver ran down his spine. The animal howled, its dark side he always struggled against, recognizing her as an equal; a kindred spirit.

Her whole demeanor tattled the increase of her influence and authority among the X Men, and the air she was exuding was that of a leader.

Logan blinked and shook his head slightly. There was no doubt that time and womanhood had done a number on her. He suddenly felt confused; _angry_. Her change was to be expected given the three year gap. Coming back to a different person was inevitable, but seeing her like that, so disparate from the girl he held so close to his heart, keeping an emotional distance, infuriated him. He couldn’t decide what frustrated him more: that there was no sign of the stowaway that had once holed up into his trailer – and his life – or that the woman she was now was utterly unwilling to express the slightest intimacy about him.

Logan’s hands curled into fists, and his breath became heavier as he tried to restrain himself. His eyes never left her, waiting to see how far she was going to take her disregard towards him.

The Wolverine growled, intrigued by her defiance and the lust it sparked within him. _A challenge._

Erik, noticing his uneasiness, turned just in time to see Logan watching Rogue like a prey. He’d caught him observe the young woman the moment she stepped in, but now it seemed like he was scanning every single detail; and enjoying it.

Logan felt Magneto’s eyes on him. He finally took his gaze away from Rogue only to give his old enemy a “what the fuck are you looking at” stare.

Erik lifted a knowing eyebrow, followed by an acid grin. Logan’s chest rumbled audibly in anger and after one last glance to Rogue, he walked away.

At the sound of the growl, the friendly conversation dropped and after a short, uncomfortable silence and some puzzled looks, Rogue returned to the original subject.

“Storm, before you and Hank walked in, I was informing the Professor and Erik that there’s been new information about tomorrow’s mission that I’d like to look into.”

Storm was bemused. “New information? When?”

“A few moments ago. I got a call from one of my contacts. I didn’t get to know much, but from what I’ve been told we might have to make a few changes to the original planning, so I came here to ask from the Professor to hold off the mission for another 36 hours, if possible. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you first, but I thought it’d be better for him to know before everyone else; I intended to call you here to discuss this and give us your opinion as well,” Rogue explained.

Ororo crossed her arms warily. “This contact of yours; is he – or she – reliable enough? I mean, have we been given solid information from this person for other missions before?”

“Several times,” Rogue assured. “And every single time it was lifesaving,” she pointed out.

Ororo’s eyes were lit by a sudden revelation that made her realize who they were talking about. She turned to the Professor, tension lacing her voice.

“What did you decide?”

Charles and Erik looked at each other once more, a voiceless conversation taking place between them. The X Men waited patiently for their verdict.

The Professor gave a nod as if he was agreeing with something, and turned to the other mutants.

“Erik and I think that 36 hours is not much of a stretch if the data Rogue is going to collect are _that_ vital. But since we’re not the ones to participate actively in this mission, I’d like to hear the opinion of the team members as well.”

Rogue turned to Ororo. After Scott’s tragic loss, the weather witch was next in line to succeed him in leadership. For many mutants in the Mansion, her voice mattered as much as the Professor’s.

“What do you say, Storm?” she asked.

Storm contemplated this turn of events. It didn’t take more than few seconds though to address Rogue.

“Ever since you rejoined the X Men, our efficacy rate when it comes to protecting mutants, as well as neutralizing labs and mutant hate groups, has been higher than ever. The Professor is the soul of the cause we fight for, and I’m the one who leads his people, but you’re the mind and the primal executioner of every mission we have completed successfully so far. If you say that the lead you got is worth the delay, then I agree with it.”

Hank nodded his consent, and Rogue gave a small nod as a “thank you”. She, and everyone else, looked at Avalanche and Tattoo, who’ve been watching everything discreetly from a distance.

Avalanche snorted. “You don’t have to ask us if we agree; you give the order, we follow. You already know that.”

Logan was speechless. What Storm had said about Rogue, had left him dumbstruck.

_Ever since you rejoined the X Men._

_You’re the mind and the primal executioner of every mission we have completed successfully so far._

What did she mean “rejoined”? Wasn’t Rogue staying at the Mansion this whole time? Where had she been? Did she really possess that much knowledge to be the mind of most operations? _How_?

His jaw had dropped, scowling deeply while trying to cope with what he’d heard. He’d expected Rogue to participate in missions – hell, he was one of her trainers once – but to be able to prepare a mission, to investigate and create the proper strategy was on a whole other level. Where the hell had she gotten skills like that?

Rogue sensed Logan’s eyes on her, trying to see inside her. She turned her head towards him without looking at him. She knew what was going on in his head, but she wasn’t ready to give him any answers. Right now, she wasn’t even willing to talk to him.

It was time to go.

“Good,” she stated. “Since we all agree, I’m calling my contact to arrange a meeting as soon as possible. Tattoo,” she called. “You and Domino are coming with me, just in case something goes wrong.”

Tattoo nodded and went straight to find Domino.

“Avalanche, you’re staying here. Make sure the team knows the change of plans and give the rest of the details to Ororo about the phone call. I’ll be in touch with you; when I have something new to report, you’ll inform both the Professor and her immediately.”

“What about the other teams?” Avalanche asked.

“That’s Storm’s job,” Rogue responded. “And she does it well. Leave that to her.”

“Got it,” Avalanche said and left the office.

Before leaving as well, Rogue turned to Yukio. “I’m sorry that our encounter must be so brief, but I need to go.”

“Don’t worry; I understand,” Yukio said.

Rogue’s expression was one of gratitude. “I’m sure the Professor, Storm and doctor McCoy will do what’s necessary for you to have a pleasant stay.” She thought about it for a moment and then continued. “And I hope we get the time and chance to get to know each other better later…if you want to.”

“I’d like that,” Yukio responded with a heartfelt smile.

“Anata ni aete kōeideshita,” Rogue said as she bowed. _It was an honor to meet you._

At the sound of Japanese, both Yukio and Logan gaped. They stared at each other surprised, and then looked at Rogue. Yukio was the first one to recover, and realizing she was being rude for not responding, she quickly bowed as well.

“Meiyo wa watashi no monodatta,” she muttered. _The honor was mine._

Logan, still dazed, kept goggling at Rogue, as she addressed the Professor and Storm once more.

“I’ll try to make it as quick as possible,” she promised.

While she was talking to Yukio, Rogue had caught Logan through the corner of her eye carefully approaching her. She tried to ignore him, but by the time she was ready to fly out from Charles’ office, he was already standing right next to her, waiting for her to finish so he could talk to her.

“We’ll be waiting for your update,” the Professor stated, and as she turned to stride out, she nearly collided with Logan.

He was about to say something when she looked up at him, a cold empty look in her eyes.

“Welcome back,” she said laconically and exited rapidly.

“I…” Logan only managed to say before he was left with the only alternative of watching her leave.

“Yeah…” he sighed dejectedly, putting his hands in his jeans pockets.

After Rogue was gone, he kept staring at the opening. _Well; that went fuckin’ swell_ , he thought.

“Quite magnificent, isn’t it?” Erik interrupted his reverie.

Logan span around and narrowed his eyes at him.

“Her conversion,” he nudged.

Logan turned towards the door again.

“If it weren’t for the white streaks, I wouldn’t have recognized her,” he murmured, mostly talking to himself.

His eyes went back to Hank and Storm, giving them a look that held all the questions he couldn’t ask out loud.

They looked at him numbly, unable to share any of the answers he wanted.

Yukio approached him with an approving smirk.

“I like her,” she said, and Logan stared at her bewildered, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

The Professor moved his chair away from his desk. “Storm, why don’t you take Logan and Yukio to their rooms? I’m sure they both need some time to rest and recover after such a long trip,” he suggested.

“Of course,” Ororo offered quickly and started walking to the door, when Logan’s objection stopped her.

“I’m not tired, Charles,” he sounded irritated.

“Even so, Yukio might still need some solidarity, and it won’t harm you to take some time to settle into your old room as well,” he insisted.

Logan let his frustration to show with a gust. “Fine,” he relented. “But we’re not done yet,” he warned, and the Professor knew _who_ was talking about.

He kept his expression neutral as he watched Storm guiding Logan and Yukio out of his office and straight to their rooms. After they were gone, he sighed tiredly, sharing a moment of silence with Erik and Hank, acknowledging the impending barrage of questions that were going to follow.

……

“If you need anything, let me know; I’ll be downstairs until curfew to make sure all the children are in their dorms for the night,” Ororo said to Yukio, after letting her in the room that it would be hers from now on.

“Thank you; I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Yukio responded. After Storm showed her the room and all its utilities, she looked at Logan, who was standing at the door with his duffel bag on his left shoulder and his right thumb hooked in his jeans’ pocket.

He gave Yukio a head tilt, pointing towards the hall. “I’ll be a couple of doors away, ok?”

She nodded with a small smile. “Ok. Goodnight,” she said to both Logan and Storm.

After the door closed behind her, Ororo turned to Logan. “Your room remains the same way you left it – minus the gouges and the rumpled sheets, of course,” she tried to humor, and Logan rewarded her attempt to amuse him with a lopsided grin. “But I’ll walk with you to it just in case there’s something missing.”

“Thanks, ‘Ro. Actually, I was going to invite you in. There’s something I wanna talk to you about,” he said gravely.

“Oh.” Storm was aware of what the “talk” was going to be about.

They walked further down the corridor, and she handed Logan the key to the room he once considered his base.

He opened the door and turned the lights on. While he inspected the room, he slowly let his duffle bag land on the floor. Storm was right. Everything was just as he’d left it. In fact, everything was just as it was the first time he’d stepped his bare foot in here. Even his scent was gone. It was like he’d never been in this place, like all the moments he’d lived in here never happened. His nightmares; his drinking times, when all he wanted was to well up in his thoughts and struggles to remember – and forget; the first time he talked with Jean, and his first pissing match with Scott; his first night here when Marie… _Rogue_ had tried to wake him from his nightmare, ending up with three claws in her chest. The terror when he realized he’d hurt her; his desperation, and then the shock and excruciating pain of her power drinking him in; his fear for her being hurt even after she’d healed herself, and the realization there was someone in this world who could help him meet true death if he chose to…all gone. A pang of loss cut through him.

Storm had remained outside the door, leaning gracefully on the frame, as she watched him inspecting his old room. He had his back turned to her, but she could see the memories engulfing him, making him nostalgic; perhaps even regretful. Logan was a man who always cherished the past more than the present and constantly rejected the future. And for that, the past always repaid his allegiance by perpetually returning to haunt him, keeping him from escaping it. 

She heard him huff tiredly as he waved at her. “Come in.”

“You sure you don’t want to rest?” Ororo tried to avoid the coming conversation futilely.

“Close the door behind you,” Logan ignored the offer and took off his jacket, tossing it casually on the bed.

Storm did as she was asked and walked in quietly, while Logan approached her slowly with his arms crossed.

They looked at each other for a moment. The weather witch was not inclined to make the first step and Logan already knew that. Ever since he’d met with Charles and Erik at the airport, everytime the conversation turned to a subject he was curious about, he only got vague information – especially when it came to Rogue. He was determined to get to the bottom of this; one way or another.

“So…spill it,” he told her and waited.

“What?” Storm’s false innocence made Logan growl in aggravation.

“Don’t play games with me, ‘Ro. You know what I’m talking about. _The kid_ ; what the hell is goin’ on? Who the fuck was _that_ back there?”

Storm heaved a sigh. “You’re talking about her reaction to you.” It was more of a remark than a question.

“Not just about that. Though I have to admit, I’ve taken kicks in the balls that stung less. I’m talking about _her_. Her attitude, the way she talked about missions like they’re a walk in the park, her knowledge…her _coldness_. I know military experience when I see it, and I know a battered soul when I see one too,” he pointed out, lifting his eyebrows knowingly.

Ororo decided to tread carefully. She wasn’t sure what Logan knew – _if_ he knew anything – and she didn’t want to be the one to tell him what had taken place during his absence. She didn’t agree with Rogue’s decision to leave him in the dark about the past three years, but it was _her_ past and she had the right to be surreptitious about it if that was her wish. Plus, Rogue’s trust in her had just been reinstated, and Storm had reassured the young woman that she wouldn’t be judged for her personal choices again. She wasn’t going to ruin that now by exchanging one friend’s loyalty for another’s.

But regardless the situation, she cared for Logan as much. It didn’t sit right with her to merely deflect him, so she made an effort to be as honest with him as possible.

“What did the Professor tell you?”

Logan tilted his head, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Why? What was he supposed to tell me?”

Ororo huffed, feeling like she was dealing with a petulant child. “Logan,” she chided.

“ _Storm_ ; ever since Charles and Magneto came to pick me up, I’ve been dealing with half words and bullshit excuses,” Logan said through gritted teeth. “You better give me something or I’m gonna go downstairs and make _her_ tell me. And from the ‘warm welcoming’ I got, my bet is it’s not gonna end up well.”

Storm raised her palms as to keep him from doing what he threatened. “You’re right; it’s _not_ going to end up well. For _you_ , mostly.”

His frown was dubious. “Where are you gettin’ at?”

“Logan, you’ve been gone for a long time. You have no idea how hard things have been here; for all of us, but even more for Rogue.”

“Because of the damn cure?” he guessed.

Ororo shook her head. “It wasn’t just the cure. After Hank was appointed as ambassador by the president, we all thought that the worst was over, that a new era was beginning for the mutant/human relationships; we couldn’t have been more wrong.”

“Why?” Logan asked.

“After the Professor’s ‘death’, it became much harder to track down young mutants who’d just manifested, or help the ones who needed us the most. Although Hank was doing his best to appease people’s fears about us, anti-mutant groups kept springing all over the states. It became even worse after it was revealed that the cure wasn’t permanent. It took only a year for the situation to get out of hand. Even after the Professor’s return, new mutant laws had been passed already. The legislation was excused as a precaution for everyone’s safety – both mutants and humans – yet it had more to do with mutant restriction and surveillance.

During this chaos, Rogue had to deal with the rejection and passive aggression from her peers. The Professor was not here to handle the situation in an effective way, and with the lack of hands to run the school – and Rogue’s reluctance to speak about it – it took me too long to realize what was happening. I had barely enough time to prioritize everything that needed to be done in order to keep the school open. And for some reason she never shared with me, she chose to deal with this on her own,” Storm finished.

Logan lips thinned. “So the little shits were giving her hell,” he monologued. “First they were avoiding her like the plague, even though she was walking around wrapped like a mummy, and then they jumped on her because she didn’t want to be treated as a walking landmine anymore. Fuckin’ kids.”

He looked at Storm again.

“You couldn’t do anything about it with your hands being full as they were, I get that. But what about the Icekid? What the hell was _he_ doing about this?”

Ororo stifled. She knew Logan wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear.

“After a couple of weeks from your departure, Rogue and Bobby broke up; he started dating Kitty almost immediately after. Given the circumstances, it was a bit…volatile situation for him to handle.”

Logan staggered, anger following his initial surprise. “He let her deal with this shit all by herself? He didn’t even come to tell you about it?”

Storm hesitated a bit, searching for an answer that would keep Logan off Bobby. “I suppose…it didn’t cross his mind,” she tried to justify. “But she wasn’t completely alone, Logan. Jubilee was there for her; and Jimmy; the little boy that his mutation was used to create the cure. Because of this and his powers, most of the other students didn’t want to be around him – except Rogue. She was the only one who welcomed him here and treated him well.”

“So in a mansion that houses hundreds of people, there were only _two_ she could turn to and plenty of others that were giving her haze,” Logan snarled.

Storm lowered her head in shame. That was one of her most disgraceful moments as a headmistress and a leader. Unable at the time to deal with everything that came with those titles, she had neglected her role to teach the young mutant residents not to let the same prejudice that had forcefully driven most of them here, to infiltrate their minds and behavior towards others; humans or mutants.

Logan cursed and walked away with his hands on his hips. He knew the other kids would make Rogue’s life miserable for taking the cure, but he never expected that the ones who supposedly cared about her would give up on her like that.

 _Fuckin’ Iceprick_ , he thought infuriated as another snarl escaped him. He shook his head to let some steam off. He’d deal with the little asshole later. There were far more important things to focus on right now.

He ran a hand through his hair and turned back to Storm. “What happened then? How did she deal with it?”

Ororo wasn’t sure if she was supposed to say that, but she decided it wasn’t information that was considered too private.

“She left.”

Logan stopped dead on his tracks. “ _Left_? What do you mean ‘left’?”

Storm sighed. “With the cure out and the anti-mutant groups demanding for all the mutants to take it – even by force, if necessary – things were getting out of hand. Anyone who’d taken the cure was considered a ‘traitor’ for denying their mutation, regardless of the reasons or the conditions under they had made this choice. The worse things got out there, the more Rogue and Jimmy were treated like the enemy in here. They could hardly eat at the cafeteria anymore, or even walk around the halls. They were constantly on the receiving end of glaring stares and accusations whispered behind their back, but loud enough for them to hear; some of their peers even reached the point of threatening them.

One day things got out of hand, and after an obscenity a student said to Rogue at the Rec room, Jubilee rushed to defend her and got into a fight. Thanks to this fight I finally found out what was happening, but by then it was already too late. That was the final straw for Rogue; she didn’t want Jubilee to be excluded because of their friendship, so she decided to ostracize herself and leave the school for good.”

Logan was jarred. “Why the fuck didn’t the firecracker tell you anything before all this shit went down?”

“I asked her the exact same thing. She told me that both Rogue and Jimmy insisted for her to say nothing, fearing that if she did, things would escalate really fast. They didn’t want to cause any trouble. They could tell how serious the situation outside these walls was, and didn’t want to make it worse.”

“Jesus Christ…” Logan murmured, rubbing his face. “She left to go live out there… _alone_. And you let her,” he accused her.

Storm glared at him. “Don’t blame this on me, Logan. I tried! I tried to convince her to stay! I promised her that she and Jimmy wouldn’t be the recipients of such trials again, but she was adamant about leaving. She claimed she shouldn’t be living here anyway since she wasn’t a mutant anymore. And given the climate, she was worried that she’d cause more strain if she stayed. She was 19 at the time, so I could not forbid her to leave!”

Logan looked at her numbly. “You’re right; you’re right…I shouldn’t snap at you. I know how things were back then. It must’ve been tough for you to deal with everything. I’m sorry.”

The sincerity of his words calmed Ororo’s rising frustration, who accepted his apology with a silent nod. Logan stepped closer.

“Where did she go after she left? What did she do? Why did she come back again after the way she was treated?”

Storm looked at him, but said nothing.

“ _Storm_ ,” Logan said in a low strained tone. “What happened to her?”

“ _Much_. Too much, Logan. That’s all I can say. Don’t blame her for being so distant. You don’t know the things she’s witnessed.”

“I don’t blame her,” Logan admitted. “I know it’s my fault. I fucked up. I should’ve been in touch with her.”

“Why weren’t you?” Storm asked.

Logan winced. He tried to come up with the right words to explain, but he couldn’t find any.

Ororo waited for a response. When all she got was silence, she spoke again.

“You don’t have to explain to me. But you need to understand that it is as hard for her as it is for you. I don’t know all the details about her life back then, but I know enough about her adversities. I was asked to be discreet about it. I won’t be the one to betray her trust. I hope you understand that as well.”

Logan stared at her. Something that looked terribly like fear, flickered in his eyes. “Was it so horrible? What she went through?”

Ororo nodded. “Yes.”

He rubbed his face with both hands, moving them all the way up to grasp his hair. Fury swept over him.

“Fuck; _FUCK_!” he spat and threw down his arms with such force, that caused a loud thud when they met his thighs.

Storm watched him with compassion. She knew why he’d run away after Alcatraz, and she knew that it was going to take him time to heal. What she couldn’t comprehend was why it had taken him so long to contact them. Especially Rogue. He didn’t have to come back if he didn’t want to, but he could at least let her know he hadn’t forsaken her.

Seeing him so despondent, made her feel she should make an effort to get them to talk. Perhaps not all was lost.

“Maybe you should go find her. Ask her yourself. Show her you still care,” she offered.

Logan’s head snapped. “She thinks I don’t?” he asked with honest surprise.

Storm rolled her eyes in indignation. Logan was a smart man, with voluminous knowledge hiding in the deepest corners of his mind – although much of it was still inaccessible. Yet, it always surprised her how dense he could be when it came to other people’s feelings.

“You disappeared for _years_ without giving a sign of life! I can understand your need for isolation back then and, believe me, _she_ did as well. If you had bothered to give her a call after you had come out of the darkness you were dwelling in, perhaps things would’ve been different. One call, Logan; just one call to make sure she was alright and to reassure her you were well too. To let her see you still wanted her be a part of your life – even from a distance. We all thought you left this place behind you for good, that you wished to have nothing to do with us anymore. How do you think _she_ felt?”

Logan shoulders slumped in guilt…and shame.

He let Storm’s words sit with him. Once again, she was making a good point. Whenever he dealt with a pain his healing factor couldn’t do anything about, he acted like a wounded animal; more prone to attack and hurt the person who’d be trying to help him, than let it tend his wounds. That’s why he always ran. He didn’t know how to battle his demons when other people were present. He needed time, and he needed to be alone. The problem was that because of his prolonged life, he always thought that time wasn’t an issue. And it wasn’t; for _him_. He always forgot how different the world clock ticked for other people. He’d spent so much time in solitude, he was always prone to the side effects of long-term isolation. He tended to forget that the ones he cared about saw his absence under a different spectrum: the one of abandonment. And that took its toll on their feelings for him.

He rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling exhaustion wearing him down.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I should’ve called – sent a letter, something. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. It was just…” he struggled to explained how he felt; not an easy feat.

Ororo lifted a hand in a comforting gesture. “It’s alright. I’m not the one you need to rebuild the bridge you burned to meet in the middle of. Be patient with her, Logan; let her set the pace if necessary,” she advised, and placed her hand tenderly on his shoulder.

Logan seemed to think about it for a moment. “What if it doesn’t work?” he asked, the possibility rising a wave of fear in him.

“It will,” Storm assured him, the conviction in her voice giving him a glint of hope.

“All in good time, my friend,” she said before she left, to give him time to deal with past thoughts and present feelings.

“All in good time.”

……

Rogue was putting on her black leather jacket while going down the stairs to meet Avalanche, Tattoo and Domino on the first floor. She saw them talking and waiting for her next to the elevator that would take the three women to the garage.

“Ready?” she asked them while she was fixing her jacket’s collar.

Tattoo and Domino gave her a curt nod. “Ready.”

Rogue turned to Avalanche. “Did you talk to Drago and Puppet Master?”

“Yeah,” he responded. “I was on my way now to find Storm and discuss the details of the call and anything else that might come up about the mission.”

“Good,” Rogue said satisfied. “If anything happens while we’re out, text me right away, ok?”

Avalanche eyed her sketchily. “Like what?”

She shrugged, looking a bit uneasy. “I don’t know; anything. If you notice something unusual just let me know, alright?” There was an obvious tenseness in her demeanor that wasn’t there even after she’d gotten the phone call.

“Right,” he muttered, but his tone let her know he was aware of her fret.

Rogue nodded and turned to Domino and Tattoo, who were already waiting inside the elevator.

Before she’d taken two steps, Avalanche called. ‘Hey!”

All three of them looked at him.

Avalanche hesitated a bit, and then gestured to Domino and Tattoo. “Why don’t you two go down and prepare the bikes? I’d like another minute with Rogue.”

They looked at each other, and then at Rogue, who motioned at them to go without her.

Domino pouted carelessly in an effort to act indifferent. “Sure, why not?” she offered. “We’ll start the engines once we get down. Take your time, ok?” she said to Rogue, who muttered a “thank you”.

Tattoo, unlike Domino, didn’t care enough for discretion. She let her curiosity show, even though she remained silent and merely pushed the button for the door to close.

Rogue watched the two women disappear to the sub-level. She turned around slowly, and saw Avalanche observing her.

They stood across each other in silence.

“So,” Avalanche uttered seriously. “Wanna tell me what this is all about?”

Rogue put her hands in her jacket’s pockets in a carefree manner. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she deflected.

He gave her a “don’t give me bullshit” look and pressed more. “Haven’t seen you so tense since the extraction of Magneto. I can tell when things are going tough for you, even though you manage to keep it from everyone else. After today’s meeting in the Professor’s office, you seem a bit off.”

Rogue bit the inside of her lower lip and shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“That guy Erik and the Professor brought in today, along with the Japanese chick; Logan, was it?” Avalanche pretended he didn’t remember his name. “I’ve never seen you so starchy with someone before; or that _emotional_.” 

She snorted ironically and looked away. “I think you’re exaggerating a bit.”

“Rogue;” Avalanche said softly, forcing her to look at him again. “You know how much Jubilee loves to talk. And she’s not exactly the epitome of discretion either. There were a couple of times when she and Storm mentioned this guy’s name. Apparently he was someone important; to _you_ , I mean. Wasn’t he?”

Rogue shut her eyes and shook her head. “Δε θέλω να το συζητήσω Δομήνικε.” _I don’t want to talk about it, Dominikos._

Avalanche stiffened. Rogue never mentioned his real name, nor talked to him in his native language, unless the moment was considered for one – or both – of them “singular”. And that alone, said a lot.

“Ok,” he relented. “I’m not gonna push anymore. But whenever you feel ready to talk about it…I’ll listen.”

“What makes you thing I’m gonna want to talk about it?” she asked, shuffling a bit.

Avalanche gave her a bitter smirk. “I don’t think you’re gonna want to; you’re gonna _have to_.”

Rogue didn’t say a word. She knew he was right, although she would never admit it.

“Either way…you can count on me,” he repeated.

Rogue smiled, whispering an affectionate “I know”, and headed to the elevator.

……

Tattoo and Domino had already their engines running when Rogue got to them. She climbed onto her Ducati and was about to start the ignition, when Tattoo let her curiosity get the best of her. “So, what was that about?” 

Rogue peered at her, and then turned her attention to the bike’s dashboard. “Avalanche wanted to clarify a couple of-”

“I know what Avalanche wanted,” she cut off. “It’s exactly what I’m asking you now.” She waited a moment, and then asked again. “So…what was _that_ about?”

“Fuck,” Domino grumbled, catching Rogue’s attention before her eyes went back to Tattoo again.

“What do you mean?” Rogue asked with a blank expression, pretending ignorance.

“C’mon, Rogue; spare me the ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ shit. You know how much it pisses me off when you do that,” Tattoo insisted – a bit too intense for her own good.

Rogue dismounted her Diavel and strode to Tattoo, keeping her piercing stare on the green haired mutant.

She stood so close, Tattoo could count every single hair of her white strands.

“And you know how much it pisses _me_ off when people waltz around a subject they don’t have the balls to go straight for! And before you accuse me for doing the exact same thing, let me tell you that I’m _fully_ aware of it. It still doesn’t mean I like it when someone does it to _me_. So, whatever it is you want to ask, just ask and get it over with!” she hissed.

“Double fuckin’ standards much?” Tattoo sneered.

“ _Damn right_!” Rogue snapped.

“Ladies,” Domino interfered, trying to put out the fire that was threatening to rise. “Don’t we have somewhere to ride to? _Now_?”

Rogue’s restrain didn’t fool Domino. She knew her well enough to know she was seething underneath. Whatever had happened in the old Professor’s office had affected her significantly, and Tattoo’s attitude wasn’t helping any.

Rogue stared back at Tattoo as she spoke to Domino. “You go ahead; we’ll catch up.”

Domino hesitated for a moment, but eventually receded. “Whatever; just don’t take too long.”

“We’re right behind you,” Rogue said, and Domino revved up, while Tattoo turned off the ignition and landed her feet on the concrete.

After Domino took off, Rogue stepped back and crossed her arms riled up. “I’m listening.”

Tattoo leaned back and placed her hands on her thighs. “What’s the deal with ‘Drago number two’ up there? Why him being here worked you up like that?”

Rogue gaped. She leaned forward, as her eyebrows reached her hair. “ _Drago number two?_ ” she exclaimed.

Tattoo shrugged in apathy. “Yeah, you know, that ‘Logan’ guy. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice they’re carbon copies; both feral – obviously – both gruff, both hairy and both charmingly assholes – _also_ very obviously.”

Rogue grimaced. “I thought you liked Drago.”

“Of course I do,” Tattoo said casually. “He’s a good friend and an even better teammate. We’ve struggled through a lot of shit together, and he always has our backs. That doesn’t mean I don’t see what an epic dick he is.”

Rogue made a condescending face. “Can’t argue with that; or the fact that these two have a lot in common. But, Tattoo, for yours _and_ the Mansion’s sake, whatever you do, never mention that again.”

“To Drago? Or the other guy?”

“To _both_ ,” Rogue clarified. “The Mansion was rebuilt only a couple of years ago; I don’t wanna see it lying in rubbles for the second time because of these two. I’m not in the mood of repainting and redecorating all over again.”

Tattoo scowled at her impatiently. “You said to Dom we wouldn’t be long, so I suggest you stop fencing and give me an answer.”

Rogue released her arms and stepped closer to Tattoo once again. She placed a hand on the bike’s handle and the other cupped her friend’s face gently.

“Tattoo,” she said fondly. “You’re someone that can honestly say you know the real me; and one of the people I call family. We’ve been through much, you and me. You’re a great friend and an excellent fighter. I can barely name few who have the skills you do. But you’re lacking a very important aptitude that one day is going to get you into serious trouble.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“ _Diplomacy_ ,” Rogue responded. “Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not on top of my list of favorite things either; but for all your bluntness, you need to own some discretion and right timing to tone it down a notch. You know; balance it a bit. I advise you to start practicing as soon as possible. Go to Avalanche if you need help. He’ll guide you through it,” she advised, and with a friendly pat on Tattoo’s arm she walked back to her bike.

“Rogue!”

Rogue glanced at her.

Tattoo lifted her leg above her blue Yamaha and jumped off, closing the distant between her and Rogue. Once she reached her, she put her thumbs on her backpockets, fidgeting a bit.

“Look…I’m sorry. “I know I shouldn’t act like a bitch and it’s really none of my business who this guy is. But you said it yourself; we’re more than just teammates. And you’re more than just a team leader. You’re the only one I got; and the only one who cared enough to pull me out of the gutter I’d thrown myself into,” Tattoo confessed.

“And you were right. I _do_ know you. And watching you react the way you did at Xavier’s office had me niggle. Seeing this guy made you really upset. He went to hug you, and you dodged it like it was a bullet. You introduced us to his Japanese chick, but not to him. You ignored him the whole time you were in there, trying to stay as far from him as possible, and the moment you got a chance to leave, you sprinted out of the room. I wasn’t there, but Avalanche was and he told me. Don’t try to pass this as something casual. Clearly you and this guy have a history. Maybe even some unfinished business, I don’t know. What I do know is that in all the time we’ve been together, I hardly remember anyone throwing you off center the way he did.”

Rogue listened to Tattoo quietly. The woman with the green hair and the flaming attitude never spoke much about feelings. Yet now she was pouring her angst and thoughts in a way she rarely did.

Rogue clenched her fists. Four years had passed since she last saw him, and the damn son of a bitch _still_ had the ability to tune her out. Her jaw tightened. She wasn’t a stupid kid anymore, crushing on the big bad wild guy whose every step she loved to worship. Why the hell was she letting him affect her like that?

“Rogue?”

Tattoo’s voice flipped her out of her rumination. The concern Rogue saw in her eyes, angered her even more.

“You always tell me not to shut down; that I should talk about what’s eating me up, before it gnaws me completely,” Tattoo persisted. “Talk to me; tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”

Rogue smiled at her friend’s worry and caressed her long hair affectionately.

“Thank you, Tattoo. But like I told Avalanche, I don’t wanna talk about it. I’m not ready yet. And now’s not the time. We need to go, and we need to keep the mission our first priority. We’ll have time for that later, ok?”

Tattoo rolled her eyes and lifted her hands in surrender. “Fine; we’ll do it your way. It’s not like I can convince you otherwise anyway,” she said with a sly grin that Rogue reciprocated, and they both went back to their bikes.

Once they started the engines, Tattoo decided to take one last shot.

“Hey!”

Rogue was already heading towards the open garage door, when she slowed down and looked at her.

Tattoo bit her lip and then hesitantly asked. “Can you at least tell me who he is?”

Rogue’s eyes went at the dark road ahead of them. The path that pointed the exit from the safety of the Mansion to the shady city streets was lighted by small headlights and the stars. She struggled to find an answer that would quell temporarily Tattoo’s curiosity.

She grabbed the throttle, ready to speed to the open road, away from this place and the memories it carried, away from everything she didn’t want to feel; away from him.

She blinked hard, choking down the bitterness.

“He’s…just passing through.”

……

A discreet drizzle welcomed the three mutant women on the streets of New York, accompanying them all the way to “Sleeping Dogs”.

Rogue landed the pedal and her high heeled boot on the sleek concrete, as her gloved fingers pushed away some white hair that had found a place on her wet cheeks. She strode quickly towards the entrance with Domino and Tattoo, after they’d made sure the ride back home wouldn’t be on soaked saddles.

Together they scanned the bar once they were in. Their swift check provided them with the familiar stage they met almost everytime they visited the semi-dark den.

Rogue’s hands found her hips as she watched the patrons – many she was familiar with – drinking, quarrelling and playing pool. She then turned her head to the left and took a long look at the fighting cage that was standing there in all its weathered glory. Over the years, she’d developed the habit of watching the tournaments that took place here when she had a day off and was in the mood for something…bloody. Tonight though, her mood was foul and the cage was too connected with past “indiscretions” that had come back when she least expected them. She grunted some of her frustration and turned her gaze away.

“Runnin’ Wild” was coming loud and clear from the speakers in a failed attempt to cover all the fuss and hustle that was coming from the worn jeans and leather rummage.

Rogue turned to Tattoo and Domino who were as irritated by the scrimmage and the heavy scents of tobacco, poor hygiene and sultriness that were attacking their nostrils.

“Bad day for a visit, huh?” Domino yelled above the noise.

“No shit,” Tattoo agreed.

“Actually, this mess is a plus and you both know it,” Rogue stated. “There’s enough bustle to make sure no one will listen something they’re not supposed to, and plenty of commotion to help us make a quick escape by blending into the crowd in case shit hit the fan.”

“You know, all those things you just mentioned are a plus for the reason we’re here, _not_ for our ears and noses,” Domino objected.

“Or our sight,” Tattoo added, watching in disgust some goons at the nearest table who hadn’t seen a razor, soap or laundry detergent for quite some time.

Rogue tried to stifle a laugh. “We won’t be staying for long. Just try to remember why we came here in the first place.”

She looked around one more time, and then pointed with her head at the bar. “You go ahead and have a drink; I’ll go find Manoel. Keep your eyes open, ok?”

“Got it,” Domino said as Tattoo nodded, and then walked towards the counter.

Tattoo and Domino were ordering their drinks, when Rogue spotted one of the waitresses serving a group of bikers.

She walked to her and grasped her arm lightly. “Sonja!”

The pretty brunette spun around, ready to glare at whoever had grabbed her, but the moment she saw who was it, she beamed brightly.

“Hey, honey! We missed you here! Where have you been?”

“You know me; always busy,” Rogue smiled back. “Hey, you know where Manoel is? I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Sure, he’s in the storage in the back. You want me to get him?” Sonja offered.

“No, I don’t wanna keep you from your work. I’ll go find him myself. Thanks,” Rogue winked, giving her a sassy grin.

“Anytime, gorgeous,” Sonja simpered, and then headed to the counter to give the bartender a new order.

Rogue headed to the storage room in the back. It wasn’t long before she heard Manoel’s coarse voice cursing in Portuguese for God knew what. It seemed that everything and anything was a good enough excuse for him to land right in the gutter.

Rogue stopped in front of the storage door, where a bunch of boxes were stuffed together. She chuckled at the side of the broad back reverberating from his coarse slurring that echoed in the wide space.

“Noite difícil, Pistolero?” _Rough night, Pistolero?_

Manoel turned abruptly, surprise and joy replacing the stern look on his rutted face. “ _Vampira_!” he yelled, and went to her with wide open arms.

Rogue met him halfway, perching in his strong embrace while he patted her gently. His heavy hands landed on her arms and pulled her back to take a better look at her. “You don’t look so good, _linda_ ,” he said gravely after his once-over.

Rogue smirked, but said nothing. She wasn’t at her best, but she was always happy to meet with the man that was a mentor, protector and loyal friend. Manoel had crossed paths with her at a time when she was still staggering, filled with doubts about the life-changing choices she’d made. The tough Portuguese had taken her under his wing and given her – besides fighting, gun and street knowledge – an incentive, and a way to deal with her past, something that no one else ever did. The fact that he was also a willing listener who’d never use her confessions against her, had earned him a special place in her heart.

Manoel placed an arm around her as he led her out of the storage. “So, how you’ve been doin’, kiddo?”

“As usual,” Rogue shrugged off the question.

Manoel gave her a more careful look. “What’s wrong?”

Rogue made a carefree face in an attempt to feign indifference. “Nothin’ besides the obvious. You called me, I came. I’m listening,” she said impatiently.

Manoel frowned before switching it to a careless expression. He pointed towards the bar. “Let’s go.”

They returned to the barrage of noise, and Manoel gave a quick salute to Domino and Tattoo when he and Rogue passed by them. The two women raised their longnecks and watched them walking to the far corner of the bar, the spot Rogue favored the most.

When they sat, Manoel signaled to one of the waitresses, who rushed quickly to go at them. “The usual,” Manoel ordered, and waited for Rogue to order as well.

She shook her head. “Just water for me.” Once the girl left, they focused on each other.

“So,” Rogue leaned towards him. “Tell me about the tipoff.”

“How about _you_ tell _me_ why you’re so off first,” Manoel connoted.

Her eyebrow went up. “You call me a few hours before the mission begins, telling me you have info that might lead to last minute readjustments and you’re wondering why I’m off?” she asked incredulously.

Manoel gave her a stern look. “Look, _linda_ ; I know there’s a lot of people who take credit for helping mold you into who you are now – including me. I took you in, trained you, taught you everything I knew. But out of all those other assholes, I’m the only one who knows what’s under the clay. So, let’s skip the fuckin’ act and cut right to the chase. I’ve seen you before leaving for a mission, and I’ve seen you strain when something doesn’t go as planned; right now your edginess has nothing to do with either. So I’m gonna ask again, and this time I want a straight answer: what’s wrong?”

Rogue exhaled tiredly at the recurring déjà-vu she was having tonight. The thought of this made her lips curve bitterly.

“You know, for all the credit my closest people are giving me for being able to shield myself from others, seems like tonight I’m doing a pretty lousy job at it.”

Manoel nodded in understanding. “Must be a real hump then.”

Rogue stared at him.

“Whatever it is that’s eating you,” he explained.

Realizing she wouldn’t be able to escape this encounter as easily as her previous two with Avalanche and Tattoo, she pled for a deal. “How about you tell me about the tip and after the mission’s over I come by for a visit?”

He eyed her, unsure if he should let her get away with it.

“Manoel; por favor. Eu não posso fazer isso agora,” she pleaded. _Manoel; please. I can’t do this right now._

The gruff man rested his arms on the table. “Do you know what happens when you go on a hunt and something else is taking too much room in your mind?” he reminded her.

“ _Yes_ ,” Rogue pointed, feeling offended. “You taught me well, old man. Have some faith in me, will ya? I know what I’m doing,” she insisted.

Manoel nodded with tightened lips. “For your sake and everyone’s who’s gonna be with you on this mission, I hope you do.”

Rogue dropped her head resigned. Manoel didn’t like this. He’d trained her to be as good as every man who was cut out for this line of work, and from the first few days he could tell she’d eventually become one of the best. Her worst and only drawback was her own self. She was so inclined to doubt her skills and her potential, he’d practically witnessed her sabotaging herself several times.

He shook his head. That _rapariga_ had been through so much shit, she had ended up with a badly bruised ego and a severely wounded self-confidence. She’d managed to restore a large part of it after he’d met her, but the moment someone she looked up to doubted her, she was struggling not to falter.

Manoel reached over and took her gloved hand in his. “ _Linda_ ,” he said tenderly, and somehow he managed to be heard above the noise.

Rogue looked up a bit surprised. The retired bounty hunter wasn’t usually so expressive when others were around.

“You’re someone I take _pride_ in training. Not only for how good you are, but mostly because of all the reasons that make you so good. I’ve seen you overcome situations most guys would get totally crippled from – in _every_ way. You’ve been fighting against all odds and proving everyone who said you’d fail wrong even before your skills were honed for this. I know you can pull through; I _do_. But I also know how much harder makes to get the job done to carry extra load around. That’s what I’m talking about here, you understand me?”

She took a deep breath. “I can handle it. I know how to put things aside to focus on what’s right in front of me.”

Manoel finally backed off. “Fine. But if you go and try to get yourself killed just to avoid talking to me, I can tell you right now, that’s not gonna let you off the hook.”

His effort to cheer her up worked, and Rogue’s laugh could be heard above the music and the loud voices.

After she came down from it, they shared a look that both knew had sealed the deal. Manoel nodded with a knowing stare. “Ready?”

Rogue crossed her arms and settled them on the table, imitating Manoel’s former gesture. “Go ahead.”

……

Logan blew out the smoke of his cigar. His stare was on the ceiling, while he was sieving his mind for possible answers.

He’d spent most of his “rest time” like this: lying on the bed, one hand pillowing his head and the other indulging him with the taste and scent of tobacco coming from the Cuban his fingers played nervously with.

He took another drag and glanced outside the window. The night was already heavy. He frowned when it dawned him how much time had passed since his talk with ‘Ro, and grunted when he realized that after all the contemplation he’d done, he still couldn’t reach a conclusion about today’s “reunion”.

Rogue’s reaction had snowed Logan over so much, he still couldn’t get over the cold welcoming he’d received from her.

He was never one to be gushy or cordial, but the moment he saw her marching inside Charles’ office, his first instinct was to go to her. The stun from the way she’d looked and acted kept him from it, but when he found his voice and composure again, he wanted to have her in his embrace – just like she’d done everytime he was coming back after his frequent excursions.

Logan couldn’t figure out the reason he felt _he_ was greeting _her_ , since Rogue had been staying at the school for quite some time, while he was the one returning after an extended absence. But when he saw her again, he was overcome by a sense of reconnecting with an old loved one. Apparently, he was the only one feeling that way.

He put his stub out and sat up on the bed. Rogue’s attitude was a hard pill to swallow, and the woman she appeared to be now was even harder to ignore.

For the past two years, the thought of the girl with the white streaks had consoled him at his shadiest times. After Japan and the bloody redemption his time there had brought, his mind field had cleared enough to allow comforting, more pleasant memories to resurface. Everytime the darkness that lurked in his furthest depths threatened to drag him down, the young green hooded drifter lighted his thoughts like a beacon, keeping him safe from his wilderness. For some stupid reason he couldn’t put his finger on, he’d kept this exact image of Rogue in his head even after enough time had passed for her to evolve to an entirely different person.

Logan felt his lips draw up to a soft smile. She was the first one to look beyond his shitty attitude, and the only one who gave a damn about what his mutation was doing to him.

_When they come out…does it hurt?_

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. No one had ever asked him that. For most people he was a fucked up asshole, and for others a means to an end. Either way, he’d never met anyone who’d bother enough to care how _he_ felt. Hell, most of them didn’t even think he could feel anything.

And now the girl that once had eyes filled with joy and affection everytime she saw him, had turned into a woman who’d barely spared him a glance. She’d hardened, he could tell that alright. But when she started talking to Yukio, he noticed the same warmth she once reserved for _him_ , the same sweet smile she offered to anyone who was willing to get closer to her. His smile widened. Apparently, the kid he’d met on a snowy road in the middle of nowhere was still prowling underneath the harsh exterior.

With all the indifference she’d shown him, Logan had seized the opportunity to see the way time had treated her. And fuck it all, it’d been more than generous.

He shook his head and rubbed his face before resting his hand on his scruff. He got up and went for the door. There wasn’t gonna be any sleep for him any time soon, so he decided to go in search of some liquor since his personal stash had been long gone.

He thudded down the stairs, his steps too heavy from the burden he was carrying. It’d been some time since he felt like that, and he wasn’t ready to deal with it before he had at least a few swallows of anything that contained a fair amount of alcohol.

He’d just landed on the second floor and was heading for the final row of stairs, when a lazy glimpse towards the long corridor of the students’ dorms kept him on the spot.

He turned and paced slowly, almost carefully, until he reached the fourth door on the left. He stood completely still, only a few inches away from the wooden barricade, staring at it as if he was trying to will it to open.

_Her room._

Logan couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in there; but he did remember that this was the room Rogue had moved into after she’d turned eighteen. She, Bobby and Pete were assigned to single rooms next to the ones that hosted three to four students, in order to keep an eye on the younger children – and for their transition from pupils to peers to be as smooth for them as possible.

He kept his eyes locked on the door and his ears perked for any sound coming from inside, even though he knew she hadn’t returned yet. Her scent was almost indiscernible, which made him frown in question. This was her personal space; one that held her most intimate, private moments. How was it possible for her trace to be _that_ faint?

He rubbed his fingers, that seemed to have a will of their own, in an effort to soothe the itch once his stare fell on the doorknob. The temptation to see what was behind the door was too big to resist.

“That’s not her room anymore.”

Logan turned his head swiftly towards the female voice, his body coiling slightly in an aggressive stance. His thoughts were so focused on Rogue, he hadn’t paid attention to the sound of footsteps, nor to the scent of the white haired woman.

Storm smiled sweetly and walked to him. She was on her way to his room – knowing he’d be too restless after today’s meeting – to offer him some company and a few more information about the X Men’s whereabouts the Professor might have conveniently “neglected” to share.

The weather witch was not surprised to see him standing outside Rogue’s old room; but she was surprised to watch him standing in front of the door so fixed, that his surroundings were lost to him. Logan’s mutation made him capable of being aware of the slightest noise in a very wide range, and even if someone was quiet enough to fool his hearing, his sense of smell would never be.

She stood right next to him, staring at the door as well. “She hasn’t been staying here ever since she came back to us.”

Logan’s eyebrows furrowed. “When was that?”

Ororo shrugged, pretending she didn’t remember clearly. “About three years ago, I think. After the room was emptied, it remained vacant for a small time period, before another person moved in here.”

“Who?” Logan asked.

Storm tried not to show how much these memories upset her. She knew Logan would figure it out, but she still didn’t want him to see it written all over her face.

“Jimmy,” she muttered, suddenly looking weathered.

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “The kid you told me Rogue had taken on?”

Ororo nodded. “ _Leech_. This was his room for some time. Now it’s Sarah’s.”

Logan gave her a puzzled look. “Who's Sarah?”

She peered at him and smiled. “A little girl that was rescued and brought here by Rogue. She’s been her guardian ever since, and Sarah sees her as a sister. They’re very close. At first, Sarah insisted on staying next to Rogue’s current room, to be as near to her as possible. Rogue didn’t think it was safe, so she gave the idea for the little girl to take her old room, thinking she’d feel more comfortable in it.”

“What about Leech? Is he in another place?” Logan asked.

Ororo felt her throat close, and Logan smelled her pain and sorrow.

“Something like that,” she whispered.

Logan watched her carefully. The way she’d said that sounded ominous, like something bad had happened to the boy.

“Right,” he nodded, without pushing for more. He placed his hands in his pockets, trying to look casual, even though he found it very hard to do. “So if she’s not staying here anymore…where’s her room now?”

The weather witch grinned knowingly, making Logan realize that she couldn’t be fooled. He might be excellent in concealing his true feelings and intentions, but even the mighty Wolverine had bad days, where his acting wasn’t all that good. Besides, he should’ve known better than to try and play aloof after the interrogation he’d put her through a couple of hours ago.

She signaled him to follow her. “This way.”

She went for the stairs and started ascending them. Logan followed in silence, assuming that Rogue’s room was now at the teacher’s wing. When he realized they were heading towards the upper floor, the one that was completely vacant, without any resident or other form of life, he stopped.

Storm, not listening to his footsteps coming behind her, paused as well. She looked at him confused.

“Why the hell are we going up there?” Logan pointed with his head to the end of the stairs. “From what I remember, this floor was never occupied. This place is so huge, there were never that many people in here for some of them to need to move up there.”

“You’re right,” Ororo agreed. “The Mansion surely is big enough to host all of us and even more without the need for some of the habitants to stay on the last floor. But there is one resident who asked to come up here, wishing to stay isolated and away from the rest of us.”

Logan staggered. Even he, who valued his privacy more than anyone in this place, had felt satisfied enough to stay at the adult’s wing, which was pretty isolated itself since the grown-ups where always far less than the kids. What had made Rogue stay so far away and secluded – even from the ones she saw as friends?

“What the fuck is she doin’ staying up here?”

Storm stared at him. “Come,” she only said, and continued to ascend.

Once they reached the top of the stairs, she turned to him again. “Rogue was the first one to stay up here. She didn’t make the decision right away. After a couple of months and some ‘incidents’ that took place, she realized it would be safer for everyone – including her – if she moved up here.”

Logan was listening while he was scanning both the left and right wing. As it was expected, it was scarcely furnished and decorated compared to the lower floors that were filled with life. This place – even though the signs of residency were obvious – seemed too alienated for someone to want to be up here willingly. It almost gave the feeling it was haunted.

After she waited for a minute in case he had any questions, Ororo carried on. “A few months after Rogue moved here, Avalanche followed; and then Tattoo, as well as two more people. They all stay at the right wing,” she showed with her hand.

Logan was baffled. Something just didn’t sit right. “If she wants to be so isolated, how did she allow this? And why _they’re_ up here? Why not the firecracker – or someone else?”

“Tattoo and Avalanche, as well as the other two men, are members of her team. There’s also another woman whose part of it, but she prefers to stay in the city. She finds the school with all the students to be too…inconvenient.”

Logan snorted. “I’m with her on this one,” he derided and then looked at Storm. “Did you just say Rogue has a team?”

“Yes,” Ororo answered plainly.

His brow creased. “So what, she leads them on missions, gives orders, participates in mission strategy and planning?”

“That’s what a team leader does,” Storm said condescendingly.

Logan gaped. “Holy fuck.”

She gave him a sympathetic look. “I understand how this must feel for you.”

“No, I don’t think you do, ‘Ro. Rogue’s not like that. She’s not the kind of person that would make tough decisions that might jeopardize other people’s lives-“

“Was,” Storm cut off his conviction. “Rogue _was_ not like that. Many years have passed. Things changed, _she_ changed. I can see why it’s hard for you to accept that, but holding a vigil for the person Rogue used to be isn’t going to help you – or her – any,” she advised.

Logan rubbed his stubble tiredly. “You’re right. I guess I should just…”

Ororo waited for him to finish his sentence; but he never did.

“Anyway…” he waved a hand in surrender. “So these guys are staying up here because they feel closest to her, right?”

“Among other reasons,” Storm said enigmatically.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Logan asked baffled.

“Let’s just say they feel about their privacy as much as Rogue does; and it’s easier for them to keep an eye on her.”

That made Logan feel some sort of relief. At least the kid wasn’t alone. She had people to be there for her in case she needed it. On the other hand, Storm was still talking in riddles. For every bit of information he got about Rogue and her life, twice more lay in the shadows.

_What’s goin’ on here?_

Ororo gestured with her head to the left wing. “That’s where she stays. Last door on the right.”

Logan kept his eyes on the end of the hall as he surpassed the white haired woman to go to the room she’d pointed to him.

He heard the telltale sound of her heels behind him, until they both stopped in front of the room.

“This is it.” Storm spoke softly, as if she was afraid Rogue would listen to her, even though she was absent.

Logan looked at the door with the same intensity he did at her old room. He couldn’t help but wanting to get inside and see what more Rogue’s personal space could tell him about her that the others wouldn’t.

As if she had read his mind, Ororo placed a hand on his arm. “Logan,” she said quietly and he flinched, lost in his thoughts as he was.

“This is Rogue’s private place – the only place where she has complete freedom to be and act as she feels. You of all people know how important privacy is for one like you – or her; and how crushing it would be for someone to disrespect that.”

Logan turned his gaze away regretful. Somehow, the weather goddess had managed to see through his defenses and realize what was poking his mind. He crossed his arms in an attempt to avoid fidgeting, and released a breath.

“I think it’s time to go.” Storm left no room for arguments. “Rogue might come back anytime now, and I don’t think she’ll want to invite us in for tea and company if she finds us here snooping around.”

Logan nodded, seemingly still lost in thoughts. “Yeah,” he agreed absent-mindedly, and Ororo began to leave without waiting for him.

Logan watched her go, and then turned to the cedar door. He gently placed his fingers on it and caressed the wood like it was a woman’s skin. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of secrets this room kept about the woman who lived in it, about the woman _she_ now was. Disheartened, he let his hand sleep all the way down and reluctantly walked away.


	9. Antebellum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Maybe one day we'll meet again...but where you left me, you'll not find me again" (Unknown) 
> 
> Logan comes across with revelations about Rogue's past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to my beta, Englishmajor226, for all the time she dedicates to this story. 
> 
> Here's this chapter's soundtrack  
> •Thunderstruck – AC/DC  
> •Somewhere I belong – Linkin Park  
> •Enough – Delta Goodrem feat. Gizzle  
> •Way down we go – Kaleo  
> •Radioactive – Macy Kate band & Kurt Schneider  
> •Black – Kari Kimmel  
> •Medicine man – Dorothy

“You’re sure the tip is solid? What if it’s a trap we’re going right into?” Avalanche asked.

He was on the phone with Rogue for the past 10 minutes, listening how the meeting with the “contact” had gone. 

“I don’t like it, Rogue,” Avalanche insisted. “Why this informant didn’t want to meet face to face?” He waited for the answer. “Yeah, I get the whole ‘stay under the radar’ precaution, but in the grids we move and work your reputation precedes you. _Everyone_ knows who you are – regardless the alias you go by; why so much secrecy?”

While Rogue was updating him, the door opened and Drago walked in along with Puppet Master.

Avalanche signaled them to wait, and sighed heavily as he rubbed his eyes. Clearly the response he was getting wasn’t one he agreed with.

“Fine,” he caved in reluctantly. “We’ll discuss this when you get back,” he said and after some muffled words from the other end of the phone, he glanced at the two men who were watching him quietly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll let them know,” he assured, and hang up. He put his phone in his back pocket and turned to his teammates.

“What did she say?” Drago asked.

“Seems like there’s gonna be a change of plans. Apparently that triple hit Transigen got few days ago, forced them to move rashly; and get sloppy,” Avalanche informed them.

Puppet Master moved forward and mouthed as he gestured. _Is that a good thing?_

Avalanche thought about it. “Depends; Rogue couldn’t say much from the phone, but from what she _could_ tell me, we’re going to need some extra help with this mission.”

Drago groaned. “The Brotherhood cocks?”

Avalanche made a stoic face. “Yeah…”

Puppet Master rolled his eyes in distraught, as Drago crossed his arms and let out a growl. “Great.”

Avalanche nodded in agreement and headed for the door. “I gotta go find Storm and the Professor to inform them. Make sure you stay close. Rogue, Domino and Tattoo are on their way to the Mansion. We’re probably gonna have a debriefing sooner than we expected.”

Drago and Puppet Master watched Avalanche leaving. After he was gone, they looked at each other with a sense of wariness that was filling them both.

……

Male voices reached Avalanche’s ears while he was getting closer to Storm’s office, recognizing Hank’s and Kurt’s among them. Just as he was about to knock, all talks died.

After two curt raps, Avalanche heard Ororo inviting him in. His entrance revealed a group of four, with the fourth member being the new guy…Logan.

The two feral mutants were sitting next Storm’s desk, with the weather witch behind it; Kurt was standing, seemingly keeping a discreet distance.

All eyes fixed on him, making Avalanche feel like he had interrupted a private moment between friends.

“Sorry for cutting in,” he said quickly, “but I got news.”

“It’s alright, Avalanche,” Storm reassured as she stood up and approached him. “To be honest, I was hoping you’d come and find me. So…what do we have? Did Rogue find anything essential?”

Avalanche hesitated, pointing an awry glance at Logan. Important asset or not, he wasn’t sure the newcomer should listen to what was about to be conveyed.

Ororo turned to Hank who gave her a knowing look, and then saw Logan growing cautious, his narrowing gaze giving away his edginess.

“Avalanche, I understand your skepticism, but Logan was an X Man and part of the team long before you came. He gave many pivotal fights with us – _for_ _us_ – and he’s considered a prominent member, despite the fact he hasn’t been one for a long time. He _can_ be trusted, and I assure you that the Professor shares the same opinion.”

Avalanche lowered his eyes in doubt, but gave a curt nod. “Fine,” he said laconically.

Storm nodded back and folded her hands in front of her. “Speak.”

“According to Rogue, the tip is solid. She didn’t get to meet with the informant in person, but she checked the info she was given and it’s good.”

“Did she give any details?” Storm asked.

Avalanche looked at her perturbed, as if he was going to share something he wasn’t sure of. “Seems like the mission we executed few days ago forced Trask to speed up some kind of plan they had on the works. The lab we plan to infiltrate doesn’t just hold some highly classified project anymore; as of few hours prior, it also contains three mutants that were apprehended 48 hours ago. The informant told Rogue that apparently Trask has been trying to track them down for some time now. All of them are about to be transferred to a secret location we have no idea about. The personnel’s rush to evacuate the place and destroy everything that’ll be left behind, looks like a rash move and given that Trask never reacted that way, makes all this too suspicious about what’s in that lab. And to be honest, the background of the captive mutants adds to my concern about this mission even more.”

“What do you mean?” Ororo tensed. “What is it about the mutants’ nature that troubles you?”

Avalanche exhaled and pursed his lips. “They’re all former Brotherhood members. And most important; before Magneto stepped in as a leader and integrated them into his group, they belonged to Callisto’s Morlocks.”

Storm’s surprise was evident of how unexpected was the tidbit she was given. She straightened up, looking back at Hank and Kurt who shared a troubled stare with her. Logan noticed the shift in everyone and waited to hear for more.

The weather witch addressed Avalanche. “Were they captured individually? Or all three at once?”

Avalanche shrugged and shook his head. “Rogue didn’t give me any details. She only let me know that according to the informant – and her double check – Trask has been trying to locate members of the Morlocks for some time now. It seems that the success of our recent operation forced them to quicken their pace, making them too inept. The only reason we know about this is because they didn’t cover their tracks well enough this time.”

Storm nodded, lost in thoughts. After a moment of silence, Avalanche spoke again.

“This bothers me as much as you. It doesn’t make sense – and Rogue feels the same way about it. Before our conversation was over, she told me she was going to make a stop at the Morlocks’ base to talk with them, see if they know anything about this. Still; why would Trask look for the Morlocks in particular? What can they possibly have that Trask wants so much – aside mutants to use as lab rats?”

“I’m equally puzzled myself. Are we certain they weren’t looking for those three mutants in particular because of their connections with the Brotherhood?” Ororo suggested.

Before Avalanche had the chance to say anything, Hank stepped in. “Had these individuals possessed high places in the Brotherhood hierarchy in the past?”

Avalanche thought about it. “Can’t tell. Not sure if Rogue knows either. Why? You think their place in the Brotherhood might have something to do with this?”

Hank opened his hands in a “why not” gesture. “It is a possibility we should take under consideration, I believe.”

“Yes, but why _those_ three mutants? Why not go looking for John? It is known that after you injected Magneto with the cure, the Brotherhood scattered, and Pyro was the one who led the remaining members of the organization. It still sounds too strange,” Storm said.

“What if they couldn’t find him?” Kurt suggested. “What if they wanted these mutants for information they might have?”

Avalanche frowned at this, but then his eyes widened as a revelation seemed to hit him. “Kurt, I think you’re on to something.”

“Was?” the blue teleporter asked. _What?_

Ororo stared at Avalanche. “What do you mean?”

He looked at everyone in the room, letting his eyes linger on Logan a little longer. He still wasn’t sure the man could be trusted, but shared his thought anyway. “What if it’s not about these guys at all? What if they’re looking for mutants who were connected with the Morlocks because they’re searching for something – or _someone_?”

All four X Men looked at each other. That assumption seemed to be the most logical one, and now they had to figure out where this new piece of puzzle might fit in the bigger picture.

Their reverie was cut by Logan. “What makes you so sure this is about these Morlocks and not the Brotherhood and Magneto?” he asked Avalanche. “And who the hell are the Morlocks?”

“What do you mean ‘who the hell are the Morlocks’? You played a major part to the Alcatraz battle, and all this time you didn’t know who you’d fought against?” Avalanche’s cold tone was obvious.

Logan gave him a nasty glare and stood up slowly. He didn’t like the kid’s attitude, and the way he was talking to him wasn’t helping much to keep him from grabbing him by the neck either.

“My boy,” Hank intervened, “Logan left a few weeks after the resolution of that unfortunate event. Up until then, we had no knowledge where Erik’s organization’s members stemmed from. In addition, we did not occupy ourselves with this matter any further since, at the time, there were far more important issues that needed to be prioritized. The Brotherhood’s propagation back then was revealed to us much later.”

Avalanche peered at Storm, who turned to Logan and began to inform him.

“The Morlocks are mutants that live outside human society, seeing themselves as outcasts. Their group is composed of mutant misfits – especially mutants who, because of physical mutations or other conspicuous manifestations of their mutant genetics, were unable to pass as human in ‘normal’ society. Many of them were persecuted – and even attacked – by their own families, and other humans, after they were manifested. Subjected to hate, fear and disgust from the society due to their ‘deformed’ appearances, dangerous mutations, or otherwise outcast statuses, they decided to form their own society, away from the human eyes and scrutiny.

Callisto was Morlocks’ leader when Magneto first found their hideaway. After he convinced her to append them into his Brotherhood, the majority decided to follow her and join the war Erik wanted to exact against humanity. They changed their name to ‘Omegas’ in order to differentiate themselves from the Morlock members who chose to remain neutral.”

Logan’s frown was deepening while he listened to Ororo laying the information. “So, that’s where ol’ Magnus got his army from,” he muttered to himself.

He was pacing back and forth, assimilating everything he considered salutary for future usage. “Can’t say I blame these guys for feeling the way they do; but they should’ve known better than to trust an asshole that was leading them to death – or even worse, into human hands that would send them straight to the labs.”

“Some of them did,” Storm said, and Logan halted, turning to her again.

“What are you talking' about?”

Hank continued from where Storm had stopped.

“Most of the mutants that had found refuge among the Morlocks were considered grotesque by the human majority because of their…deformities; and thus, dangerous. But that did not mean, by any circumstance, that the humans’ assumptions were correct.

Many of these individuals, Logan, were just trying to save themselves from abuse and persecution. They did not wish to fight nor harm anyone – mutant or human. All they desired was to have a semblance of what most people are looking for in their life: home, family, a sense of security…peace. They did not seek vengeance, and they certainly did not seek human blood. Only acceptance – at least among their peers.”

“Exactly,” Ororo agreed and filled Logan in with the rest. “These mutants refused to follow Callisto in her new alliance with Magneto and for that they were accused for lack of loyalty and cowardness by her and the rest of the Morlocks. In the end, they were left behind to manage on their own.”

At this, Logan snarled in disgust and shook his head in contempt. “Some fuckin’ leader. Makes perfect sense now, why a bitch like her would follow someone like Buckethead.”

Storm grinned bitterly in agreement and let him on to the rest of the story.

“After the outcome of Alcatraz battle, thanks to our interference, Hank’s appointment by the government as ambassador of mutant affairs and the cure, the remaining Morlocks believed the world was safer and they could now live in their solitary without worrying about any harm coming to them. Some even decided to take the cure and return to the outside world again. Most chose to remain as they were, given the acrimony they felt about the treatment they received for their mutations, and their desire to be accepted unconditionally one day, regardless of their appearance.

After the cure’s failure and the first attacks on re-manifested mutants began, the Morlocks realized that their hideout wasn’t safe anymore. They decided to relocate somewhere where it would be extremely hard to be found by humans – or even mutants; they ended up occupying the sewers, dwelling in abandoned interconnected tunnels which had originally been built as Cold War bomb shelters and subway lines, thus forming an underground society – both literally and metaphorically speaking.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed as he looked between Storm and Hank. He had a feeling things weren’t as nice and clean as the two X Men were describing. And the fact that the word “underground” was used metaphorically, in addition with the mention that these mutants were reluctant to associate with others who were like them, didn’t sit well in him either.

“I get the mistrust towards the humans, and the suspicion against mutants after the way they were treated by their own, but why so much effort to avoid _everyone_? There were still people like them out there, looking for a safe place. And why does the whole ‘underground’ status the Morlocks adopted screams ‘trouble’?”

“Because it was,” Avalanche said after a moment of silence.

Logan was ready to ask for more, when Kurt’s placid voice stopped all others.

“Try to understand them, Logan,” he said quietly and everyone turned to see him perched on the open window, almost forgetting he was in the room this whole time.

Kurt saw them looking at him, waiting to explain. “These people…mutants like me,” he placed a hand to his chest, “can be treated with pettiness even from our own kind. I have seen it happening to others too many times; and it has happened to me as well.

There are mutants out there who do not believe we are all alike. Like some humans, these people judge their fellow based on powers and abilities. The stronger you are, the more ‘useful’ your powers are, the more you have their respect. The mutants who are ‘unfortunate’ enough to have mutations that make them look like monsters…they’re a burden; a disgrace to the mutant kind, because they offer nothing but bad reputation…and ugliness. They’re not useful, nor worthy. So, to these mutants it is better that people like the Morlocks keep themselves hidden, because they have nothing to attribute to the mutant kind.”

Logan, Storm, Hank and Avalanche were listening solemnly. The idea that some mutants could actually act and think in the same way certain humans did was disgusting.

“Is that why you came back here again?” Logan asked, anger rising in his voice. “Because you were treated like that?”

Kurt lowered his eyes. “Among other reasons,” he muttered.

Logan couldn’t help a growl escaping him.

“You do know this is bullshit right, bub?” he grunted. “There’s no such thing as ‘useless mutation’. We’re all here for somethin’. Nature doesn’t make mistakes; people who look different are not a ‘flaw’. They’re just what the word says: _different_. That’s all.”

Everyone shared the same sentiment and nodded in agreement to Kurt, who offered them a grateful smile. But none of them had any illusions that this way of thinking existed out there; and inside the Mansion as well.

Hank, always keen to present facts, was the one to lay out the harsh reality.

“Even though we are all unanimously in accord with you my friend,” he said turning to Logan, “we do have to recognize that unfortunately Kurt is right. There are mutants who _do_ dissect the mutant kind by categorizing us based on power, skill and evolution range. We’ve all met and fought quite a few times against one of them,” the blue feral said with a meaning. 

“Erik is definitely one of the most proponent mutants of this ideology, but unfortunately his elitist tendencies are not the ones that worry me the most, Hank,” Storm interjected. “Aside the adults, there are students, _children_ , who were picked up from the streets after their parents abandoned them, that embrace this doctrine. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard and watched young boys and girls – students of ours – comparing their mutations, challenging one another through power display, even choosing or rejecting friendships based exclusively on one’s mutation.”

“And let’s not forget the way the mutants who chose to take the cure are treated in here ‘till this day – even though it’s been _years_ since that happened,” Avalanche added, reminding the rest what Rogue had gone through after she’d returned powerless. 

“Jesus Christ, the world just keeps getting worse as it goes,” Logan muttered and rubbed his chin tiredly.

The words fell heavy upon the rest, and a sullen wave filled the silence.

Logan snapped out of it first, blinking hard to clear his mind. “Anyway,” he said in a stronger tone, “back to the subject. What is it about the Morlocks’ ‘underground’ lifestyle that smells like shit?”

“Because of the upheavals some anti-mutant groups were causing, it was only a matter of time before more mutants would follow the Morlocks’ example and find shelter in the sewers,” Ororo offered. “Many of them were on the receiving end of verbal and physical attacks; that led some to respond to the constantly increasing abuse coming from the humans with force. They were denounced as ‘misfits’ and were persecuted, having no other choice but to find a hideout underground.

The Morlocks did not deny protection to any mutant who sought it – culprit or not – as long as they followed the rules of their society, and they did not judge past transgressions. They also did not interfere with the ones who allowed their anger towards humanity take the best of them, continuing to commit criminal or antisocial acts upon the above-ground society.”

“What kind of acts?” Logan requested.

“Stealing, mostly. Water and food provisions are most vital to the Morlocks. The majority of them preferred to look for food in the waste during night hours, when the chances to be seen were thin. But after the influx of new people, their need in supplies increased; and that was the motive some were looking for to create a splinter group to cause turmoil.”

“Stealing food to provide to hungry people that society hurled because they didn’t have the ‘right looks’ doesn’t sound so wrong to me,” Logan quipped.

“It’s wrong when the stealing of food is followed by smashing shops that don’t allow mutants in, blowing up cars, and disfiguring the faces or internal organs of people after robbing them, just because they made the mistake to walk by the wrong corner,” Avalanche pointed out.

Logan’s eyebrows jumped. “They were _disfiguring_ people? What the fuck for?”

“Vengeance,” Hank said. “The humans had exiled them because of their appearances, so they were retaliating by deforming the ones they got their hands on. They began to attract unnecessary attention by hurting unjustly inculpable people, and made our efforts to de-escalate the rising threat of open war much harder. We probably wouldn’t have found Morlocks’ whereabouts so soon, if our hand wasn’t forced by some ‘branches’ that were bowelled inside their community and acted more like organized gangs than solitary outcasts.”

Logan looked at him. “How _did_ you find them?”

“When the news began reporting the attacks, declaring that mutants were responsible and calling each and every one of us a possible threat, we knew we couldn’t let this go on,” Storm explained. “Some X Men went to the locations where the attacks had taken place, and started sifting them through for evidence – any sign that would give us a lead. We noticed a pattern of action in specific areas, though it wasn’t until later we discovered that those areas were above or close to abandoned tunnels beneath. Since we couldn’t make the connection right away, we decided to stay low and scout for a little while to see if this pattern was going to repeat itself.

For days an X team was scattered to places that were close to where the attacks had happened, watching and waiting for any action to be initiated. Some had taken up the role to act as passing by humans, others were stashed in the shadows, and a couple meandered in the local dives, checking for witnesses or anything unusual. Rogue had chosen to watch from above.”

Logan gave her a baffled look. “ _Above_?”

“Rooftops,” Avalanche responded.

Logan stared at him in disbelief and then glanced back at Storm. “Why the hell was she watching from the rooftops? Sounds like a dumb thing to do. If she’d found the stupid jerks that were causing all that shit, how would she manage to get on the ground and catch them in time?”

Hank and Ororo locked eyes, before she slightly gestured to Avalanche to keep that to himself.

“She has her ways,” Avalanche spoke first, helping the other two mutants to avoid giving an answer.

Seeing Logan opening his mouth to make the next question, Storm interceded and told the rest of the story of how the X Men met the Morlocks; and how Rogue had found Tattoo.

……

**_About two years ago…_ **

_Thick, grey clouds announced their presence with a deep rumble. She moved aside her dark green hood and looked up for any sign of incoming droplets. The humidity was making the air thick, and rain’s refusal to meet the ground was evident, as she drew in a deep breath._

_It was already 2 am and almost an hour had passed, since the last time Rogue had roamed the rooftops of the street blocks she’d taken on._

_Ten days in, and they still had nothing solid on these “mutant vigilantes”, as some called them. “Mutant fiends” is what the media went by and Rogue couldn’t honestly say which title was worse. All she wanted to do was get these guys – whoever they were – out of commission and get it over with. There were far more important things the X Men needed to focus on; labs to be shut down, cells of anti-mutant groups to get de-stabilized, political agendas to be thwarted and people to be kept safe; there wasn’t enough time, nor she was in the mood to play chase with a bunch of misfits who thought attacking humans was somehow balancing the scale._

_She let her eyelids weigh down and stretched her senses as far as she could._

Nothing.

_Rogue huffed, feeling more and more indignant as time went by. Patience wasn’t her strongest suit, but demanding life conditions and hard training had helped her hone it. Still, waiting for gang bangers to get bored and decide to come out and play was taking too much of her._

_She placed a hand on the hidden transmitter in her ear._

_“Colossus?” she called._

_A blip sound and Colossus’ voice filled the silence._

_“I’m here.”_

_“Any progress?” Rogue asked laconically._

_“If there was, you’d be the first to know,” he answered._

_Rogue nodded to herself and browsed around once more. A moment later, Piotr stated her mood._

_“Bored?”_

_She shook her head in frustration. “This whole thing seems pointless. If we had a lead – or at least a face match – we would’ve known where or who to look for. Now we’re just hopin’ for a needle to be accidentally found in the haystack.”_

_Colossus seemed to put some thought to it. “It_ is _strange that none of the victims had any recollection of the perp. And the Professor’s difficulty to locate them doesn’t make sense either. But we agreed that any chance we have to get them is if we go with this plan. Did something else cross your mind while you’re up there?”_

_“Yeah, to jump,” Rogue said irritated by their inadequacy._

_She heard his whicker rumble in her ear. “I meant in relation to the plan,” he clarified._

_“Same,” she repeated, and a sassy smirk appeared on her lips at her teammate’s laugh._

_“Don’t give the rest of us ideas. Trust me, everyone’s as jaded and edgy as you are. I haven’t played hide and seek since childhood and, honestly, can’t say I missed it.”_

_Rogue raised an eyebrow playfully and decided to tease a bit more. “Given your size and how hard it must’ve been to find a decent place to hide it, can’t say I blame you.”_

_“Funny,” he grunted with a snicker. “But at least I quit playing years ago; unlike_ you _,” he challenged._

_“Good point,” she muttered, and changed the subject before the Russian made another implication about the life she led. “I was hoping Domino would’ve done better, but I guess was wrong,” Rogue said mostly to herself._

_“Hey!” Domino’s voice cut in. “I’m lucky, not a lost ‘n found office!” she protested in an offended tone._

_Rogue’s chuckle matched Pete’s. “Copy that, Domino,” she said apologetically. “But still, you could-”_

_A grazing sound caught her attention, and Rogue quickly shifted her focus to the ground just in time to see a sewer manhole slid moving slightly until it was lifted and pushed aside. There seemed to be a pause, and then a head appeared, checking hesitantly right and left for any motion. Once assured the alley was clear, the head disappeared and few seconds later a hooded person came out, followed by a bunch._

_Rogue coiled and grabbed the ledge to lean forward a bit more, her hood covering most of her face as she watched silently the group of four heading towards the main street._

_“Colossus,” she whispered, making sure she remained invisible. “Gather everyone to the location my transmitter’s signal is emitting. I might need to be on the move any moment now, so get here as fast as you can.”_

_“Rogue, what’s wrong? Did you find them?” he asked with an urgent tone._

“Quickly,” _she hissed, and rose to follow the mutant cluster that seemed to be the one they were searching for._

_She tried to get close enough to take a better look at them, all the while avoiding the illuminated areas. She landed soundlessly on a fire escape right above them just in time to listen to the hooded man, who seemed to be their leader, giving the rest directions for their upcoming attack._

_Rogue patiently waited for them to initiate action before interfering. She wanted to be absolutely certain these mutants were their target, and she needed the rest of the team to be here in order to apprehend them altogether without allowing any of them to escape. She inhaled slowly, trying to ease her increasing tension; now wasn’t the time for rash moves._

_When they crossed the artificial light of a street lamp, she managed to notice more details, and what she saw made her breath get caught in her throat._

_The man with the hood was well hidden behind the cloth, but the looks of the other three were quite visible._

_The biggest of them was a man with a severely deformed face, so deformed that looked like someone had molded it into a distorted mask. The other man right next to him was the one that caught her eye the most; he looked just like Nightcrawler – only this one had red skin and a look of malevolence in his demeanor, unlike the kind-hearted blue teleporter. She wondered if he also possessed the same powers Kurt did._

_The fourth and last person was a young woman, and the only one who had a human-looking appearance, aside a shaved head with only a long line of green hair falling klutzily around her scalp. Rogue noticed that her facial traits were quite attractive, aside some tacky tattoos decorating one side of her neck and cheek. It seemed like she was trying to hide her beauty out of embarrassment or something, and the dizzy clothes she was wearing strengthened that assumption even more._

_Suddenly, the telltale sound of rusted cartwheels came up, heading towards the alley, and Rogue saw the four mutants freezing at the call of the red demon-like who, probably thanks to his elongated ears, had located the sound sooner than the others. They rushed to hide behind two large dumpsters, waiting for the unsuspected walker to get close enough._

_Rogue shifted and prepared herself for combat. Avalanche, Domino and the rest of the team would be here soon; all she had to do was to stall them as much as possible, and keep the person that was heading towards the mutant group safe._

_The rolling became stronger, and a scavenger wrapped in an old worn coat appeared, pushing his cartwheel towards the dumpsters in hope to find something useful or consumable._

_“Well, this isn’t how I had planned for our night ‘stroll’ to begin, but you will do as well,” Rogue heard the hooded man say while he came out behind the dumpsters, with the other three mutants following him._

_The old scruffy man halted and looked at them, taken aback by their looks and their menacing approach._

_“Uhhh…sorry, fellas. I didn’t know this block was taken. I’ll just leave, ok?” he said, and started to turn the cartwheel to leave as fast as he could._

_“No need for that,” the hooded man offered in a fake condescending tone. “To be honest, we’ve been looking for some amusement, haven’t we, Azazel?” he addressed the red mutant._

_“Indeed,” the one named Azazel responded with a vicious smile. “I’ve been bored out of my mind lately. Some entertainment will help kill monotony a little. Won’t it, Smog?” he glanced at the burly, disfigured mutant next to him._

_“Definitely,” he agreed, while they were circling the poor man, who now looked petrified._

_“Wait, wait!” he pleaded lifting his hands in surrender. “I didn’t know you guys owned the block. I wasn’t looking for trouble,” he tried to explain._

_“Maybe not, but we do,” Azazel mocked, and the other two men laughed._

_Rogue was seething, gripping the railings of the stairs so hard, her hands were practically shaking. It was one thing for mutants to use their powers in order to defend themselves and others – or to fight back – and a completely different thing to exploit them in order to torture and toy with people who had done nothing wrong. Her anger was bubbling fast, and decided to go against her better judgment and take them all out – information be damned; but the glimpse she caught of the young girl with them, made her change her mind._

_Unlike the rest, she didn’t seem to enjoy tormenting the unfortunate human. She had a look of resentment and disgust for the way the others were terrifying him. She was standing at a distance, her arms squashing each other, giving away the tension she was feeling. A light tremble was crossing her wiry body, and a shin of sweat was covering her forehead and temples._

_“Come on guys, knock it off,” she protested weakly. “We were supposed to be hitting the grocery store and the drug store two blocks from here, not make madlarks shit their pants.”_

_“True, but why not mix work with pleasure a bit?” Azazel offered with a twisted smirk and turned to the man in the hood. “Masque, shall we begin?”_

_Their supposed leader approached even more the daunted scavenger who was now cornered between his cartwheel and the three men. The young woman took an even bigger distance and closed her eyes in regret, knowing what was coming next._

_Rogue had heard and seen enough; it was time to crush these assholes’ party._

_Masque raised a gnarled hand towards the old beggar, who was now quivering in fear. “Now, what should I do with you? Reshape your face? Or perhaps ‘rearrange’ something within?” he mused out loud as he placed his hand on him._

_“No, please don’t!” the man cried, and suddenly his face began to warp. Azazel and Smog burst in laughs, which broke off when they heard a voice behind them._

_“Four against one; if that’s not the epitome of bravado, I don’t know what is...”_

_The ironic exclamation made everyone in the alley turn around to see the intruder._

_Rogue was standing few feet away from them, body covered in a dark green uniform. She was encircled by a cloak that she’d shunt enough to reveal two knives, sheathed on each side of her thighs. Her hands were crammed in gloves, and her hood was letting her aggressive mood to show._

_“Who are you?” Masque demanded._

_“Leave this man alone,” she stated with a calm, but strong voice. “Restore his face, let him go and then we can talk.”_

_The group of mutants looked at each other, and the three men laughed. The young woman remained stone still, staring at Rogue speechless._

_“Don’t you give me orders, little girl,” Masque said in a threatening tone, while he removed his hand and started to walk towards her. Where his hand had touched the scavenger’s face, his skin looked wrinkled, almost melted, like someone had thrown acid on him. He slowly collapsed on the ground, holding his face in tears._

_Rogue watched in awe, and then in anger, as the poor man was trying to figure out what had just happened. She looked back again to the one called Masque._

_“So…you’re the leader of these riffraff,” she said, letting out all of her contempt. “Masque, is it?”_

_Masque stopped his pace and gave her a dubious look. Rogue gave him a once-over, focusing more on his face now that he was near enough for her to see it better._

_“I can see why you chose that name to go by,” she nodded while she brought a hand on her hood, pushing it back to reveal her face. “Though now that I see you from up close, it would sound more appropriate if it came along with an actual mask instead of a hood.”_

_Masque froze from the bluntness of the comment, and his one eye held all the fury he felt._

_“You’re a mutant like_ us _! Rejected and hated as much as we are!” he pointed out and showed to the other mutants who were watching the exchange, and Rogue, with hate. “They wouldn’t hesitate to_ kill _you if you didn’t have this beauty to make them tolerant towards you. Yet you judge your own kind by appearances, like these_ humans _who condemned us and cast us out!” he accused her._

_Rogue didn’t even blink. She knew those “self-pity speeches” by heart. Hell, she’d practically delivered to herself most of them._

_“For someone who’s been through too much because of the way he looks, you sure do judge a book by its cover a lot! And given what you’ve done to this man and all the others you attacked, doesn’t seem you’re above appearances either!”_

_The four mutants wavered a bit at her answer, but they recovered immediately. Smog and Azazel sneered at Rogue while closing the distance between them, making her realize this wasn’t going anywhere. Colossus’ voice called her in the transmitter, letting her know they were close; it was time to fight._

_“Enough with the small talk,” she said, before turning to Masque again. “I’m gonna say this one more time: restore this man’s face, let him go, and then we can leave this place together; or, I tie you down and carry you with me!”_

_Masque paced backwards carefully until he was behind the three mutants. “I agree; enough with the talk. Smog, Azazel; teach her some manners!”_

_Before he was able to finish his sentence, Rogue had rapidly removed her cloak and tossed it on Masque, who fought to get rid of it. Azazel’s hand unleashed a bolt of energy that she managed to avoid by front flipping on the right. After landing on one knee, she unsheathed her left knife and threw it to him, which he avoided by teleporting away, making the blade nail the wall behind him._

_“Shit!” she hissed._

He _was_ a teleporter after all.

_While making the realization, Rogue felt a pressure on her mind, and her thoughts blurred. She pressed her temple and raised her eyes in time to see Smog focusing his stare at her. His eyes had turned black, and now her head was getting heavier, like a dark cloud was crushing her mental walls._

Telepath.

_Probably the reason why the victims couldn’t remember anything after the attack._

_Once she realized his power, Rogue pushed the ground and stood up. She concentrated hard enough, until the dark mist began to withdraw, and Smog’s expression turned to one of shock._

_Rogue continued to fight back, just like the Professor had taught her. The singular way her mind worked thanks to her mutation, made her capable to protect herself even against subtle telepathic attacks. When she’d discovered this, she became determined to develop that skill even more._

_She kept pushing back, until Smog’s mental invasion collapsed, bringing him to his knees while panting._

_“What’s wrong?” the young woman asked, while Masque was watching bewildered Smog going down._

_“She-she blocked me,” the big man said, holding his head in confusion._

_“Impossible,” Masque breathed, and it was then that Azazel re-appeared next to Rogue, who was still focusing on Smog, waiting for another mental attack. Before she had time to react, the demon-like mutant sent her on the ground with a punch and an evil laugh._

_His hand was already glowing again, ready to throw another energy bolt at her, when Domino’s voice came from above._

_“Rogue!” she yelled, and dropped in front of the three mutants, both hands loaded with guns._

_Azazel turned his attention back to Rogue, sending the bolt on her only to find the ground, as the few seconds Domino’s distraction gave her were enough to help her recover and roll on the side, take off her gloves and toss them while she stood once more._

_Azazel vanished again, as Colossus, Jubilee, Iceman and Shadowcat barged in the alley._

_“What the fuck was that?” Domino exclaimed, pointing her guns at the mutant gang._

_“We have a teleporter!” Rogue shouted, looking around. “He also fires energy bolts. The hooded man deforms anyone he touches, and the other guy’s a telepath, so keep your guard up! Not sure what the girl can do yet!”_

_The X Men looked at the mutants, and Colossus began to approach to apprehend them, while Domino kept aiming at them._

_“You guys stay where you are and no one will get hurt,” she warned in a low voice._

_Azazel showed up in a cloud of smoke long enough to throw a blast at Domino. Colossus turned to metal and jumped in front of her, taking the blow that was meant for her._

_He crushed on the asphalt with a loud thud and a groan, while Domino turned quickly and shot twice as Rogue simultaneously threw her other knife at where now only smoke was._

“Son of a bitch!” _Rogue snarled, and ran to check on Colossus, who seemed to be paralyzed from the blow. Masque took advantage of the situation and scurried towards the young girl._

_“Tattoo! Get us out of here!” he ordered, and the girl started to stretch her arms to him, when Jubilee stepped up to cut his getaway._

_“Not so fast, creep!” she said, and threw a plasmoid wave to them. Tattoo raised her hands, and a force field appeared before her, successfully deflecting Jubilee’s attack._

_“Holy shit!” she squeaked, her mind speeding up to figure out what should be her next move._

_Domino had already immobilized Smog, who’d tried to grab her from behind, only to end up with a broken nose from her elbow and a knee in the gut that knocked him down efficiently enough for her to tie him up and lock on his neck a suppression collar. Iceman was in his ice form in order to keep Shadowcat, Jubilee and the human safe, as well to avoid another attack from the red teleporter who had yet to appear again; Rogue was helping Colossus, while calling Shadowcat to stay close to the scavenger and be ready to phase him in case Azazel was going to use him for distraction or leverage._

_Rogue saw from the corner of her eye Masque holding Tattoo, bidding her to disappear._

_“Domino, stop them!” she called, and Domino turned just in time to see the girl creating another field around her and Masque, waiting for an attack coming from mutant powers. Domino grabbed her gun and shot once, knowing her luck would be enough to do the trick._

_She watched the bullet go through the hooded man’s shoulder blade and scratching Tattoo’s bony shoulder, the impact throwing them both down, screaming in pain._

_Colossus was on his feet again, shaking his head in dizziness. He turned to Rogue. “Go; help Iceman. I’m ok.”_

_“You sure?” she asked._

_“Yes. Domino and I will keep these guys at bay. You finish this.”_

_Rogue nodded, and rushed to collect her daggers. She sprinted back to Bobby, placing her back against his._

_“You alright?” she offered._

_“Been better,” he said, and Rogue heard an anxious smile in his voice. “This guy is too good, I don’t know how-”_

“Watch it!” _Rogue yelled, and instinctively pushed Iceman away as a barrage of energy bolts went straight on them and the rest of the X Men, accompanied by a hysterical laugh._

_Some obstructed, some blocked and others steered away, but everyone managed to avoid the attack._

_They were all exhausted from the constant struggle to predict where the next onslaught was going to come from. As time was passing, Rogue was getting more and more pissed. This party had been going on for too long; it was time to end._

_She signaled everyone to stay away, and moved forward with her hands spread._

_“You wanna play, Azazel? Come out and try_ me _!” she shouted, while she was stretching her senses again, putting her full concentration on locating where would the red demon attack from._

_She felt the air behind her alter slightly, and twirled in time to block another punch. She’d nearly landed a strike, when he vanished again. That went on for a while, making the teleporter realize this wasn’t just another tedious fight._

_“You got skills, little skunk,” Azazel sneered, while he kept teleporting and reappearing in circles around her. “But I…am_ intangible _,” he stated arrogantly, as he was swirling closer._

_Rogue closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She could hear him teleporting in and out constantly. There was only one shot. She opened her eyes again._

Focus.

_Azazel finally stroke, feeling safe and confident in his powers, only to see Rogue’s face turn to metal literally a split second before his fist had impact. He heard a loud crack as his knuckles crashed, and the excruciating pain made him so dizzy, he sidestepped and fell down._

_He was crying out in pain, holding his hand to his chest, when Rogue approached him slowly, still in metallic form, grabbed him from the neck and lifted him up._

_“Next time you wanna brag about your intangibility to someone,_ Hellboy _, make sure they don’t have ways around it,” she said calmly as he was thrashing, and landed a headbutt on his face that crushed his nose and sent him to sleep. She let him lie there and went to check on the others._

_Kitty and Jubilee were taking care of the scavenger, while trying to appease him; Pete was making sure Azazel wouldn’t cause any trouble until they returned to the Mansion, and Iceman was helping Domino give the basic first aid to Masque and Tattoo._

_Rogue picked up her knives, gloves and cloak and went to them._

_“How are they?” she asked, watching Domino putting pressure on Masque’s wound, ignoring his moans and pleads to stop._

_“Motherfucker’s gonna make it,” Domino informed her. “Which is a good thing, given how many people he needs to set right after the ‘makeover’ he gave 'em.”_

_“Good,” Rogue muttered and looked at Bobby, who was holding the girl named Tattoo. She frowned at her sweating and shivering._

_“She’s not well,” Bobby said, while placing a hand on her forehead. “We should get her to Hank as soon as possible.”_

_Rogue sat on her heels and placed a hand on the girl’s chin, raising it slightly to observe her. Tattoo looked at her, and what Rogue saw in her eyes made her still._

_Anger, pain, desperation…_ need _. She knew those feelings all too well – but most important, she knew what that blend of feelings indicated. She’d been through the same torment long ago. She watched the young woman’s face a little longer. She knew what she had to do._

_“Jubilee,” she called. “Do me a favor; go to the nearest place with a vending machine and get me a coke. Hurry.”_

_Jubilee gave her a quirky look. “Seriously, chica?”_

_“Yes. And hurry up, will ya?” Rogue told her._

_Jubilee and Kitty looked at each other puzzled, not sure what was going on. Rogue gave a strict stare at the lithe Asian._

_“_ Now _!” she chided, and Jubilee sprinted without another question._

_Two minutes later she was back with a soda can. She gave it to Rogue, who opened it and offered it to Tattoo. The girl looked at her confused._

_“Drink this,” Rogue coaxed her. “It’ll make you feel better, I promise.”_

_Tattoo took the can with a trembling hand and began to sip. Pete had already picked a tied up Azazel and placed him over his shoulder._

_“Are we ready?” he asked, and everyone nodded. Rogue turned to Shadowcat._

_“Kitty, call the Mansion; tell Storm to come and pick us up.”_

_“I already did; she’ll be here at any moment now,” Kitty assured._

_“Good job,” Rogue praised her, and then turned to the others. “All of you; you did great.”_

_They all smiled, and Rogue turned to Tattoo who was now watching her suspiciously. Rogue moved closer and helped her stand up._

_“How are you feelin’? Better?” she asked._

_Tattoo stared at her baffled, not sure what to make of this._

_“Can you go back where you came from on your own? Are you strong enough?” Rogue insisted._

_Tattoo gaped, and after a while she shook her head. “Uhhh…yeah. I think so.”_

_“Good,” Rogue nodded, and took off the suppression collar Domino had placed on her. “You’re free to go.”_

_Everyone gasped, and Tattoo was looking at Rogue lost, completely unaware how to react._

_“What the hell Rogue?” Bobby objected. “She was tryin’ to kill us and you let her go?”_

_“She didn’t try to kill us,” Rogue stated. “She did absolutely nothing, except defending herself against Jubilee’s attack and helping Masque escape. She didn’t threaten the trash-picker, or any of us. In fact, I don’t think she actually agreed with any of this at all; did you?”_

_Tattoo was looking to each and every one of them. “I…”_

_“Rogue,” Colossus interfered. “She’s still one of the gang members who attacked innocent people. You can’t let her go. How are you going to explain this to the Professor when he asks why you did it?”_

_“I’ll tell him I did the right thing,” Rogue insisted, and everyone silenced. She turned to Tattoo again. “Go; tell your people the X Men are coming to talk with them. And that the attacks end tonight.”_

_Tattoo stared at her, trying to see if she really meant it. When no one tried to disagree, or stop her, she ran towards the opposite direction and phased underground._

_~~~~~~_

_“This was a bad idea,” Storm muttered, her heavy breathing giving away the stress that was pressuring her._

_The X Men had just descended from the spot Masque had indicated as the closest entrance to the Morlocks’ sanctuary. After a couple of hours at the lowest levels of the Mansion, the combination of the Professor’s diplomacy, Storm’s decisiveness and Rogue’s “persuasion techniques”, had made him more than willing to restore the scavenger’s face._

_After that, Masque had consented into giving more information about the Morlocks and their whereabouts._

_According to him, the Morlocks were first formed by Callisto, who at the time had recruited a mutant named Caliban – with the ability to_ _psionically sense other mutants out to several miles away and track their movements_ – _and then used his power to locate the ones who were unable to integrate into normal society._

_Enraged and bittered by the way the world looked at mutants with extreme appearances, Callisto had decided to create a community for homeless and deformed mutants. In order for human-looking mutants who seeked refugee in her group to be accepted, Callisto’s condition was for them to conform to her notions of the Morlocks being an all-outcast community; which translated into looking as less “normal” as possible. Masque's job was to use his powers to make ordinary-looking recruits to look “ugly”, satisfying this way Callisto’s demand._

_At the sound of that, the Professor, Rogue and Storm let all the indignation they felt shown to their faces. The idea that mutants who’d already suffered persecution and scorn had to comply with the whims of fellow mutants who were lashing out their twisted doctrines on them in exchange for a home and acceptance, made them infuriated._

_Masque had recoiled after he saw their reaction, and had stayed silent. He was urged by Charles to give them the rest of the information about the way of living the Morlocks had adopted._

_At that point, Masque had revealed that after Callisto’s departure and the increasing influx of persecuted mutants, the needs in food, clothes and medical supplies spiraled, thus the reason many of the Morlocks were scavenging through trashcans, and why he had created the Tunnelers: a group consisted by mutants who were willing to go as far as stealing from the humans what they were depriving them._

_“Though I understand the need for surviving by any means necessary,” the Professor had responded in a strict tone, “I still find myself incapable of comprehending why you assumed harming innocent people would somehow assert your cause.”_

_Masque hadn’t responded, and Rogue had stepped up to give the answer herself._

_“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she’d asked him with a steel voice. “You love deforming people, ‘reshaping’ them into a perverted version of you; see them suffer the same way you did because of your disfigurement.”_

_He’d looked at her, and the sadistic gleam she’d seen in his eyes was all the confirmation she needed._

_Rogue had then approached him to grab his shoulder, pressuring her thump into the wound Domino’s gun had opened, pushing it in until she was digging the hole wider._

_Masque had screamed, and Charles was about to tell Rogue to stop, but was halted by Storm, who placed a hand on his arm, signaling him to say nothing._

_Rogue had leaned closer and had forced him to look at her. “After Callisto was gone…did you undo your work to these mutants you crippled? Or you kept that goddamned tradition and continued to maim their faces?”_

_Masque had done nothing but staring pleadingly at Rogue to spare him. She’d pressured his wound more, giving him a vicious glare, and then had pushed him hard enough to fall off his chair._

_While he was trying to get up, the Professor had moved forward and had spoken to him in an authoritative voice._

_“You will restore the harm you’ve done to every single human you’ve crossed paths with; after that, you’ll take us to the Morlocks. There, you will unmake_ every _vicious intervention you caused to the mutants who came to you seeking sanctuary, by reinstating their appearance!”_

_Masque was still heaving from the dull ache Rogue had caused. With a hand on his wound, he used the other to stand up and looked at the scowling mutants._

_“I cannot,” he’d stuttered, shaking his head. “I’ll restore the humans I disfigured – since they’re so important to you,” he’d hissed in disdain. “But I can’t promise you the same for the Morlocks.”_

_“Why not?” Storm had demanded._

_“I’m one of the founding members of the Morlocks and the creator of the Tunnelers; but I’m not the one who leads our community,” he’d explained._

_“Who does?” the Professor had pressured._

_Masque had seemed to hesitate, but once he saw the Professor giving Rogue the consent she was seeking and began approaching him again, he’d immediately collaborated._

_“Marrow!” he’d exclaimed, as he receded. “Marrow is the leader of the Morlocks ever since Callisto abandoned us. She was one of the first members that were brought to us as a child. It was her decision to continue what Callisto had started.”_

_“And of course, you had no problem consenting,” Rogue had sneered._

_Unwilling to keep putting up with the consecutive accusations the X Men were launching, Masque had lifted his head with force, giving them a stare full of hate._

_“You’re in no position to judge me_ , mutant _! Or any of you!” he’d said pointing a gaunt finger at them. “You think you’re superior to us, with your normal-looking exterior, blending with the humans, fitting into their societies by denying your_ true _nature! What makes you think you know anything about our struggles? We all belong to the same kind, yet you refuse to acknowledge your mutations, keeping them hidden for the sake of being accepted by the ones that hate us! When has ever one of you bared the mark of their mutation proudly?” he’d accused them._

_“Oh, I’m sorry, am I supposed to spend the rest of my life flaunting myself just to prove how good I feel about my existence to others?” Rogue had remarked, lifting her eyebrows in a mockery expression. “Where the hell does it say that I’m obligated to parade around like some circus freak, just to appease the other mutants that I embrace who I am? And what the hell makes you think that just because we look like most humans, we had it easy?_

_The fact that our mutations are not apparent, doesn’t mean our struggles were less; or that they hadn’t taken their toll on us,” she stressed. “I told you back at the alley, and I’m gonna say it again: don’t be so quick to judge by appearances. You’re_ no _different than those humans who chased you away because of the way you look! You didn’t fit their standards, so they casted you out; mutants came to you in desperate need for shelter, and because they didn’t fit_ your _standards, you forced your powers on them so you can feel more comfort in your state! These mutants couldn’t stand to get rejected by their own kind as well, and you took advantage of it! Honestly, I don’t get where the hell you get this high and mighty attitude from. You and those bitches you call ‘leaders’ are no better than the humans who flushed you in the sewers in the first place!”_

_Rogue’s hands had curled into fists, her chest going up and down from her erratic breathing. Suddenly, she felt a gentle hand placed on hers calmly._

_“Rogue,” the Professor spoke quietly, and she whipped her head at him. She lowered her eyes self-consciously and stepped down. Charles approached Masque, who was lingering after the ardent monologue._

_“What Rogue says is correct, Masque. The fact that your mutation gave you a heavy burden to carry does not exonerate your actions. You_ will _restore every single person you ‘punished’ for being everything you are not, and then you will take my people to your leader. It’s time for the Morlocks and the X Men to meet.”_

_“Storm,” Rogue said softly, and touched the weather witch lightly._

_Storm flinched and broke out of her thoughts, as she examined with wide eyes the filthy, hefty sewers walls they were surrounded by._

_Rogue gave the white-haired woman a disconcerting look. Her claustrophobia was starting to take the best of her, and they had barely made few steps in. Now was not the time for her to collapse. Storm was the leader of this mission and – due to the Professor’s inability to present himself the pact he believed would benefit both sides – his voice. She had initially declined vehemently, fearing that her inadequacy to cope being in confined spaces would jeopardize the mission and the members of the team, but the Professor had insisted and, with Rogue’s support, she’d finally subsided._

_Ororo turned to Rogue, who had asked from the rest of the team to give them some space, while taking her gently from the arm and moving her a little further to have a degree of privacy._

_“Storm, it’s gonna be ok; you can do this,” she said in a low voice._

_Storm shook her head, and her hand covered her face. “I shouldn’t have agreed to this; the Professor should have put_ you _in charge of this mission. You’re as capable as any of us. And you’ve proven to possess impeccable resilience under pressure.”_

 _“So have_ you _,” Rogue insisted. “Besides, I’m just a team leader who’s only been in a handful of minor missions. And it hasn’t been too long since I’ve been reintegrated in the team. You’ve been an X Man – and our leader – for_ years _. You were the one the Professor chose to be in charge of the X Men after Scott’s loss, and you were the one who ran the school after he was gone too. And as you know, he’s a man who rarely makes mistakes.”_

_Storm was listening to her strained, unable to keep self- doubt from engulfing her, when a snarky laugh came from behind._

_They both turned to look at Masque. The fact that he was at a disadvantage – tied up and with his powers dumped down by the inhibitor collar – didn’t stop him from making a face of derision._

_“This is the fearless leader of yours that will face Marrow?” he mocked. “She can barely stand being in the Morlocks’ ground without collapsing from fear!”_

_Storm’s expression turned from one of pain to one of dudgeon, but before she had the chance to retaliate, Rogue marched towards Masque, creating a loud splashing sound by disturbing the water under her feet, and landed a backhand fist on his face that sent him straight into Colossus’ hands._

_He groaned and raised his head to show a torn lip that began to drop blood, and a bruise that started to form on his right cheek._

_“If we need your opinion…we’ll ask!” Rogue emphasized, and Colossus pushed him on his own two, giving him a hard stare. “Until then, keep your damn mouth shut!” she ordered with a thick Southern accent._

_She returned back to Storm and grabbed her arms. “Storm, look at me,” she asked decisively, and Ororo’s troubled blue eyes locked with hers._

_“You’re the leader of the X Men; a weather goddess – mistress of the elements. You’ve been through all kind of hardships since childhood and survived them. You have strived, fought and_ won _; you can do this._

 _We all have fears; now you need to face yours. And I promise you, no matter how hard this will be, you’re_ not _alone. We’re with you ‘till the end,” Rogue assured her._

_Storm looked at the young woman with the white stripes as if she was seeing her for the first time. She was wearing her leather X suit – as everyone did everytime they went on an official mission. No cloak this time though; given their trip was going to take them under the streets of New York City, she’d figured the extra piece of clothing would be excessive. There was only a black hood with a silver detail covering her head – and partially her lovely face – that matched the rest of black and dark green uniform. Her back was carrying two steel, black escrima sticks, in case she needed extra help._

_The weather witch recalled the first time they’d met. She brought the image of the starved, meek child that’d been trapped in the seat of Logan’s trailer, in her mind; the wariness she’d treated her and Cyclops with, even after they’d rescued her. Her hesitant, suspicious manners when Storm had approached her after her first class to learn more about her life on the streets._

_And now before her was standing a woman, determined to make the world bend at her will. She turned at the other X Men. Colossus, Jubilee, Iceman and Shadowcat were accompanying her, keeping Masque, Smog and Azazel at bay, ready to follow orders and throw themselves in the heat of battle if necessary. It wasn’t the first time she’d been on missions with them, but it was the first time she was seeing every single one of these young mutants under an entirely different spectrum. They weren’t her adolescent, naïve students anymore; they were X Men. Strong men and women, determined to stand their ground and fight for what was right and good._

_“Rogue is right, Stormy,” Jubilee stated with confidence. “You got this; and we got_ you _,” she finished, as the rest of the team nodded in agreement._

_Storm felt an overwhelming sense of pride for her former protégés and current teammates. All the efforts and exertions the Professor and the first three X Men were put through to protect and edificate the young children that had once picked up and brought to the Mansion, were absolutely worth it._

_Suddenly, the panic that was pressing her chest began to vitiate, allowing her mind to refocus again._

_She smiled to them and looked at Rogue, nodding slowly. She graciously brought up the upper side of her gloved hand and wiped away the sweat that had formed on her forehead._

_“X Men,” Storm said in a commanding tone, “the moment we reach the Morlocks’ territory, you need to be prepared for any possibility – especially battle engagement. Do not let your guard down even for one second. Remember though, that they’re going to be women and children there, and people who’ll be trying to defend their home. Even if a fight does hold, try not to cause any serious harm or permanent injuries. Stay close to each other and make sure the prisoners won’t cause any trouble nor they’ll encourage any attempt of deliverance,” she required, pointing at the three mutants. Smog and Azazel, having their mouths shut with duct tape, glared at her._

_Everyone acceded, and before they began to march, Storm gave her last instruction._

_“One more thing; if anything happens and I’m incapable to coordinate the mission, or I’m inclined to focalize on one specific situation, you’ll be taking orders from Rogue; make sure you follow her commands no matter_ what _they lead you to do. Have I made myself clear?” she finished, as Rogue gave her a look of surprise._

_“Crystal, Storm,” Colossus responded on behalf of everyone, and Storm walked towards Masque, forcing him to raise his eyes on her by grabbing his chin and lifting his head up._

_“Take us to your leader,” she ordered, and Masque watched with trepidation the woman’s piercing blue eyes slowly getting covered by an ominous white fog._

_~~~~~~_

_“This is it,” Masque murmured, as they took a turn that brought them before an opening with three abandoned subway tunnels leading to different directions._

_Everyone looked at each other, unsure of the meaning of Masque’s words. The X Men threw the light from their flashlights right and left, but saw nothing._

_Storm narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean ‘this is it’? Where are your people?”_

_“Right here!”_

_A raspy voice echoed, sounding like it was coming from everywhere. The X Men checked around, trying to locate the exact spot it was coming from. Rogue chided herself for not catching a presence near them, even though she knew that the frowsty smell and the imperceptible buzzing wide spaces – such as the tunnels they were walking through – created, were making this quite difficult in the first place._

_A wavering move at their right caught their attention, and everyone took battle positions. Kitty and Colossus dragged the captured mutants close to them, making sure they wouldn’t try to make an effort to escape, or help the other Morlocks attack them._

_Four figures appeared through the concrete, and Rogue recognized immediately the young woman she’d met earlier at the dark alley;_ Tattoo _._

_She was holding a man with a patch on his right eye, and a woman’s hand who looked more like a cat than human. Right behind her was another woman with reptilian form that was clutching two of Tattoo’s fingers in order to be able to phase along with the rest._

_They stood across the X Men and turned their attention to their people, making sure they were unharmed._

_“Are you the ones who call themselves Morlocks?” Storm requested._

_The man with the patch gave a once-over to the weather witch and responded the same way. “Are you the ones who call themselves the X Men? Who come to speak with us ‘in peace’?”_

_“Yes,” Storm responded calmly, but steadily._

_The man gave another look to Smog, and then his eye landed on Masque’s and Azazel’s injured faces, motioning with his head towards them. “Is this your idea of a peaceful approach? Tying up your own kin, locking their powers with inhibitor collars, using violence against them?”_

_“_ Your _‘kin’ was attacking innocent, unsuspected people who had nothing to do with your misfortunes; needless to say that their actions not only were nefarious, but were also placing in grave danger other mutants who’d might end up being on the receiving end of retaliation,” Storm pointed out._

_“As for the results of violence you see on your peer’s face,” Rogue added coldly, “he should’ve known better than making smartass remarks when he no longer has the drop.”_

_The feral woman growled, and the reptile-looking woman’s yellow eyes glimmered dangerously. The man with the patch scowled at Rogue, who reciprocated with a “come on” glare and a hand reaching for one of her sticks._

_“I thought you said you were coming in peace,” he said._

_“We are,” Storm clarified, and raised her hand to Rogue, asking her to back down. She then approached the mutants carefully._

_“I’m Storm,” she offered as a sign of respect. “I’m representing Charles Xavier and his X Men. This is my team,” she gestured towards the rest of the team members. “And_ my _kin.”_

_The man stared at them again, and then brought his attention back to Storm. “My name is Erg; this is Feral,” he said, pointing towards the cat-looking woman. “And this is Scaleface,” he showed at the reptile-looking one. “Your team members have already met Tattoo.”_

_Rogue glanced at the young mutant with the eccentric hairstyle and the coarse tattoos that covered her face. The girl had been staring at her this whole time, her green eyes never leaving her face._

_Storm noticed the young woman’s fixation with Rogue, and peered at her puzzled._

_“Yes,” Rogue said quietly, first looking at the intrigued Storm and then focusing on Tattoo. “Are you feeling better?” she asked kindly._

_Tattoo saw Erg’s eyebrows knitting together while he peeked at her, and for a brief moment she seemed to sink in awkwardness._

_“Uhhh…yeah,” she muttered and lowered her eyes, but not before giving Rogue the chance to notice that the symptoms which were ailing her at the beginning of the night were still there._

_Storm was watching the exchange with great interest, but now was neither the time nor the place to find out more. She’d discuss this with Rogue later. They had to move faster if she wanted to leave the sewers as soon as possible. Her claustrophobia was at bay for the moment, but she didn’t know how much longer it would take for her mind to recall that no matter how expanded these tunnels were, this was still a confined area under the ground._

_“Erg, I believe you are here to lead us to Marrow?” she inquired._

_“Yes, but under the condition you let Masque, Azazel and Smog free first,” he responded._

_Storm declined with a shake of her head. “I’m afraid I cannot do this; your people have caused several problems to both humans and mutants, and even engaged my team into battle when they simply asked them to follow them. If I let them go now, none of you can guarantee us that they will not try to attack us, disappear or continue their transgressions. One of the things we came to negotiate is the Tunnelers’ actions and the need to put an end to their operations. In order to do this, I need to speak with your leader. So, take us to her.”_

_Erg wavered for a second, and Masque jumped at the opportunity to interfere. “Don’t listen to them, Erg! Kill them now before they destroy us all!”_

_Feral and Scaleface shifted, ready to jump on the X Men, when Rogue called Colossus, who instantly placed a heavy hand on Masque’s mouth with force, while turning into metal._

_At the sight of the steel titan, the two women seemed to have a change of heart, and numbly pulled themselves – and their claws – back._

_“Careful, girls; messing with metal hunk over here can lead to a really bad manicure day,” Jubilee commented, while she, Kitty and Bobby were ready to keep the two ferals off._

_Azazel and Smog made muffled protests, as Erg watched the whole scene in awe, realizing with what kind of powers the Morlocks were dealing with._

_“See how you end up having violence used against you?” Rogue remarked acidly with her arms crossed, daring Erg to say something back._

_Storm gave her a knowing look, bewildered as she was. Rogue shrugged a shoulder, and her eyebrow quirked, as if she was saying “don’t look at me, you’re the one who made me your second-in-command, and_ they _are the ones who started it first”._

_Ororo pursed her lips, trying to keep a laugh at bay, and cleared her throat in an effort to pull herself together again. She gave the Morlocks a piercing look, and addressed Erg once more. “So?”_

_Erg stood there, unsure what to do. The four Morlocks glanced at each other; acting as they just had a brief silent debate that ended in unanimous agreement, they turned at the X Men who waited the verdict, and the one-eyed man to announce it._

_“Come with us.”_

_~~~~~~_

_Storm and Rogue watched as they walked side by side in shock. Several times they looked at each other with a pained expression on their faces, not knowing what to do. This wasn’t a way for people to live. This wasn’t a way for children to live._

_Mold was covering the walls of the Morlocks’ hideout from side to side. The niff of mildew was insufferable, making the meager air so thick and heavy, it stuck in the throat, making hard to even swallow._

_Even though the muddy ground and the scarce filthy water streams that were flowing from various places were making it extremely hard to keep this place clean, there were signs of diligent efforts to make it as homey as possible._

_The few lamps that were placed strategically in order to offer a weak light, helped Storm peek at an opening on her left that revealed worn mattresses, aligned on the floor._

_Rogue turned her sight discreetly on the right, and noticed a couple of fraying chairs and a crippled table._

_But what made the X Men shake their heads in grief, were the people._

_Most of them couldn’t be more that 20 years old – the majority demonstrating apparent mutations. Green, blue, purple skin mutants, feral ones – looking like all kinds of animals; there was even a mutant who looked more like an amorphous blob creature than human. They were watching them with a look of wariness and fear in their eyes as they were entering deeper to the Morlocks’ realm._

_Women with children represented a great part of the Morlocks’ population as well, yet not every one of them was a mutant. The X Men noticed some mutant mothers among them, holding their little ones protectively as they walked by them; unable to turn their backs to their extreme-looking children, they had obviously taken the path of self-exile with them – perhaps even in an effort to protect them from persecution. The team also spotted some kids that were too young to be certain they would eventually manifest. It wasn’t unheard of; there were cases the X Men had come across where human children were casted out along with the mutant parent, if it was thought there was a possibility to carry the mutant gene._

_The moment they’d noticed the dwellers that looked like humans had deformed faces, they halted and glared at Masque, before they began walking again to wherever Erg was taking them._

_Rogue’s stomach churned. She knew what the sheer need to fit in was like; how far was someone ready to go in order to be accepted, the things one would do to belong somewhere –_ anywhere _. The desperate desire to escape the loneliness that whether placed you against the world, or kept you with one foot on one side and the other on the opposite one; a constant struggle to balance, unsure where –_ if _– you belonged. Never fully accepted, never fully rejected;_ always in between _._

_Kitty watched the people who looked sick and tired – probably from the lack of oxygen and sun. Most wore shabby clothes that gave away how underfed they were._

_She turned up front and addressed the whole team. “How is it possible so many people to live down here for so long?” she whispered, and Bobby placed a comforting hand on her back. “How they made it?”_

_“They had no choice,” Rogue muttered. “You’d be surprised by the resilience and willpower you would’ve displayed if you had to survive under excruciating conditions.”_

_“Roguey is right, Kitcat,” Jubilee added. “You don’t know how strong you are until you have no other choice but to be one.”_

_“You lived like this at some point too, Jubilee?” Bobby asked._

_Jubilee shrugged. “More or less. Never been in the sewers, but I know what it’s like to scruple for a bite, Snowman,” she admitted._

_Kitty and Pete looked at her with sadness, while Bobby turned his question where he shouldn’t have. “You too, Rogue?”_

_Rogue kept her eyes ahead, but couldn’t help to notice the side glance Storm gave her. She said nothing, but didn’t worry about Iceman’s notorious indiscretion, since Jubilee gave him a nudge on the ribs that forced a choked moan out of him._

_Rogue smirked, guessing that the brassy Asian was giving him her “own version of the Eye of the Tiger” as she called it._

_They walked through another tunnel, just to see a small group of mutants waiting for them a few feet further. Ahead of them was a woman with short spiky pink hair and a vivid pink skin. She was dressed in a green and blue top and matched tights; blue gloves and boots completed her outfit._

_Storm paid attention to the sharp, pointy bones that were protruding from her back like blades, as well as some other bones – smaller and more circular – covering her torso at her sides, under her top._

_Right behind her where a few men with a dangerous gleam in their eyes, that seemed to have the role of her henchmen._

_Erg, Feral and Scaleface stood on the side to present the X Men to Marrow. They all stood still while Storm walked forward to meet Marrow halfway. Rogue heard the telltale sounds of steps getting closer, and turned to see the rest of the Morlocks surrounding them._

_The moment they saw Marrow, Azazel, Smog and Masque – who now also had his mouth gagged – started to make protesting sounds. Colossus and Iceman grabbed them from their shoulders and jerked them abruptly to make them stop._

_“Are you Marrow; the leader of the Morlocks?” Storm asked with an unwavering voice._

_Marrow put her hands on her hips and stared Storm right in the eyes. “I am,” she said, lifting her chin up in a display of dominance. She eyed the three captured mutants and scowled to the weather witch. “And who are you exactly?”_

_Erg stepped in to give the information Storm had provided him earlier. “They call themselves X Men. They’re-”_

_“I didn’t ask_ you _, Erg!” Marrow exclaimed, glowering at him and the two feral women. “You three were supposed to meet the ones who’d taken the Tunnelers, restrain them and bring our people back! Not show them the way to our home!”_

_Erg, Feral and Scaleface winced at their leader’s scold, and Storm interjected._

_“Please,” she said calmly with a raised hand. “Your people did_ exactly _as you ordered them to. But I’m afraid the lack of information about us made you underestimate our determination to settle this situation properly.”_

_Marrow looked at her suspiciously, but said nothing. That tindered Storm to keep on._

_“Like your man said, we call ourselves the X Men. We’re here on behalf of Charles Xavier, the founder of ‘Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters’ and a mutant who has dedicated his life to protect our kind and help it prosper, while promoting the idea of a world where co-existence with humans is feasible. He’s a strong advocate of peaceful solutions and we, as his people, follow his example.”_

_“Yeah, we can see_ that _, alright,” Marrow scoffed, as her eyes laid once more on Masque’s bruised face and Azazel’s crooked nose._

_Storm leaned slightly her head on the right to exchange a suggestive look with Rogue. She turned back to Marrow, irritation growing within her everytime she needed to stall the main reason they were here to justify their actions to the ones who’d created these circumstances in the first place._

_“As I’ve already explained to your messengers,” she began, letting the decline of her patience show, “your people’s actions started a tumultuous situation that, if we allowed to continue, would eventually cause tremendous problems – not only to the mutants up there, but to you down here as well.”_

_“There’s no wrong in people using any means necessary to provide others provisions essential for their survival,” Marrow insisted._

_“There_ is _wrong though, with them disfiguring humans for the sake of their twisted amusement,” Storm retaliated. “And as if this wasn’t enough, they also tried to attack my teammates when they asked them to follow them peacefully. Now, we would be willing to look the other way about the Tunnelers’ ‘indiscretions’ and offer you material help without ever interfering with your way of living,_ if _it wasn’t for their abusive methods against several people up there…and down here,” she concluded._

 _Marrow walked closer to the weather witch and gave her a pointed look. “You don’t get to tell us how we’ll run things here,_ human lover _,” she said with disdain. “You risked your lives going against some of ours and made the trouble to come all the way down here for the_ normies _? What about your kind’s pariahs and their troubles? Or these mutants’ struggles are not important for you and your patron?” she pointed towards the Morlocks._

 _“We fight for_ all _people, regardless of their nature; and we’re ready to fight and protect anyone and everyone who are in need for help. And_ that’s _what we’re here to offer. But that does not mean that Masque and his Tunnelers are going to be absolved for their crimes, nor that will we allow for_ this _to continue,” she showed with her hand to the deformed Morlocks before she returned to Marrow again._

_“You accuse us of partiality towards the humans; if that was true these men wouldn’t be brought down here, and I wouldn’t be having this discussion with you. We would have surrendered them to the humans in exchange for special privileges, and given how willing Masque was to comply and bring us down here, you probably would have been under attack by now,” Storm finished, and the walls echoed the deafening silence that followed her words. Marrow tensed, but she was unable to retort._

_“From what I was told, you became in charge after your original leader, Callisto, left you behind because you weren’t willing to follow Magneto and his Brotherhood to war against the humans. If you were opposing to a war, why are you attacking humans now?” Storm asked._

_Marrow crossed her hands and lifted her chin in defiance. “We don’t care about_ your _cause. Your troubles with the humans are not ours.”_

_Storm lifted an eyebrow. “A moment ago you claimed to belong in the same kind with us. Doesn’t that make you mutants, and part of the human-mutant issue?”_

_Marrow‘s face contorted in anger. “Don’t twist my words,_ X Man _. Yes, we_ are _mutants, but there’s no comparison with you. You are the_ selected _ones, the ones who were lucky enough to have mutations that humans envy and appearances that can help you blend in easily. Open your eyes and take a look around! How many of us you think would be treated the same way you are? And how many of us would experience abusive hurl or have attempts against their life – as they did?”_

 _“And yet you allow Masque to carry on this twisted tradition in expense of the mutants who came to you in hopes of being accepted by the ones who_ know _what it’s like to be judged by their exterior!” Storm pointed out. “You follow this vile custom Callisto initiated, even though she turned her back on you!”_

_“These are our laws!” Marrow exclaimed. “The mutants who’d been with us since the beginning are aware of that, and the ones who want to join us agree with this.”_

_“Do they?” Storm challenged, and looked at the people once more. “It doesn’t seem like they consented because they truly wanted to, but because they were given no other alternative.”_

_“I’m the leader of the Morlocks!” Marrow hissed. “_ This _is my decision, and you’re not going to question that,” she threatened in a low voice._

 _“But shouldn’t a leader decide what’s best for her people based on_ their _needs and what’s good for_ them _?”_

_Both Storm and Marrow whipped their heads to Rogue, who’d spoken the words. She stepped forward and placed herself between the two women, having each one on her side._

_Rogue looked at the weather witch, an apologetic look in her eyes for interfering. “Storm, may I?”_

_Storm stared at her confused as to what purpose her initiation served, but took a step back anyway. “Go ahead,” she consented._

_Rogue nodded in appreciation and turned to Marrow. “Will you let me speak to your people?”_

_Marrow eyed her suspiciously. “And tell them_ what _? That you’re our friends and know what’s best for us? That you want our own good?”_

_“Not exactly,” Rogue said. “Everything Storm told you is true. We’re not here looking for trouble. There’s no reason for you to keep reminding us that you’re in charge. If we didn’t respect your leadership, I wouldn’t ask for your permission to speak, but as you can see, we’re really trying to find some common ground here. And since you’re certain that the Morlocks agree with every decision you make, you have no reason to worry about what I’m gonna say to them. So; can I talk to your people?”_

_Marrow frowned, looking right and left, unsure what to do. Many of the Morlocks were staring at them wide-eyed, probably because no one had ever dared to talk so openly to their headwoman before._

_“The Morlocks are loyal to you, aren’t they, Marrow?” Rogue asked. “They’ll stand by your side no matter what, right?”_

_“You damn right they will,” Marrow hissed._

_“Then like I said, no matter what I say, you have nothing to worry about,” Rogue shrugged._

_Eventually, she receded. “Fine; but after you’re done, I want you all the hell out of here, got it?” she clarified._

_Storm’s lips thinned and she was about to say something, but Rogue whispered her name, asking her silently to give her a shot._

_The weather witch took a deep breath and stood aside, as she watched Rogue removing her hood and turning to face the Morlocks._

_“My name is Rogue,” she stated with a loud confident voice, her eyes wandering on every man, woman and child. “You all must’ve figured out by now that I’m a mutant. What you don’t know is that I’ve been struggling with my mutation ever since it manifested. And what you don’t expect me to say is that-”_

_Rogue wavered, unsure if she was making the right choice, but she had to try. If not for the adults, at least for the children; they deserved better than this._

_“…I was one of the mutants who stood in line to take the cure.”_

_At the sound of this, an echoing gasp was out and now she was eyed with shock, disgust or indignation. The first typical accusing adjectives “traitor” and “coward” flooded the space around them, and Rogue raised her hands in an effort to silence them._

_The X Men were looking around worried, waiting for Storm to give them instructions, but she was standing unshaken among the commotion, gesturing them to remain calm so Rogue would get the chance to say what she wanted._

_Marrow let out a triumphant smile and signaled to the Morlocks to quiet._

_“You see? These are the ‘mutants’ who came here to preach to us and judge our ways! Pathetic weaklings who deny their true self just to be accepted as normal by the humans!”_

_“Ok, now the bitch has done it,” Jubilee growled, and began to stride towards Marrow, when Colossus stopped her by grabbing her hand, shaking his head to her._

_“Jubilee, stay put,” Storm ordered. “Let’s see what she’s trying to do,” she told her, and Jubilee felt Kitty’s hand pulling her back as well._

_“Marrow,” Rogue called to her. “You gave me permission to talk to your people; at least let me finish what I have to say.”_

_The woman huffed in disdain, but waved at Rogue to proceed._

_“If you think that calling me ‘traitor’ and ‘coward’ degrades me or affects me somehow, I’m sorry to break it to you, but it doesn’t do_ shit _! I’ve heard these names so many times, they’ve practically lost any value or effect they might once had.”_

_Everyone looked at her numbly. To be called the way Rogue was, was considered the worst punishment among the Morlocks; yet it didn’t seem to shake her any._

_“I tell you this so you can understand that what Marrow says is_ wrong _! We_ do _know what it’s like to want to fit in and several of us suffered because they didn’t; and not just by certain humans, but by certain_ mutants _as well._

 _After my mutation came back, I realized how wrong I was for not fully accepting this part of me for what it is, along with all the struggles that come with it. I chose the easy way out; and that’s_ exactly _what you people do when you let Masque deform you!”_

_She heard a hassle of reactions begin, but she cut them off._

_“You can protest all you want that this decision you’ve made was hard, but still; you chose to deny your true self, caving in to Morlocks’ demands to lighten the burden of being a mutant alone in a hostile world - just like the mutants who took the cure did!”_

_At this, some of the mutants that seemed to be newly integrated stiffed. Tattoo was hanging by every word, watching Rogue with respect and what looked like a glint of hope. Marrow and the Morlocks with extreme mutations were caught off guard listening to those words._

_“I understand that survival brought you to a point where living underground and belonging to a group –_ any _group – is considered the best choice,” Rogue continued. “I also understand why you might have a sense of obligation towards the Morlocks for taking you in – even though their acceptance wasn’t selfless, but was followed by the condition of you to fully surrender to their ways. But that doesn’t mean that you should punish yourselves for being who you are! Being a mutant is a heavy enough load to carry. Don’t try to make it unbearable for the sake of the Morlocks’ ideology – or anyone who should’ve known better than to force such choice on you!”_

_“You’ve gone too far, bitch!” Marrow snarled, and some of her followers began to approach her aggressively. The X Men stepped in too._

_“Why?” Rogue challenged her. “Because I speak the truth? You people keep nagging about the ‘bad humans’ that forced you to live in this shithole, but what makes you think you stand on a higher ground when you act like fanatic bigots to the mutants who don’t have extreme mutations?”_

_Marrow sneered, and Feral rushed from behind her, pointing a claw at Rogue._

_“All this bullshit about knowing what it feels like to be cast out just to act all high and mighty to us!”_

_“Look, honey, if you love so much playin’ the victim card, fine by me; I’m not gonna try to rain on your parade. You wanna spend the rest of your life drowning in self-pity?” Rogue shouted, staring at every Morlock. “_ Go ahead! _But as a former player of this sad little game, I can tell you right now that this kind of mentality will only make you good enough for gigs like this!” she finished, showing the dirty, grim conditions they were living under._

_She then turned to Marrow who was now signaling to her henchmen. She saw them surrounding the X Men, walking closer to narrow their space even more._

_“You said you’re a leader,” Rogue told her, “but leaders_ care _about their people; they don’t use them to pump their ego! You’re no leader; you’re a goddamn_ tyrant _! Someone had to speak up for the people who wanted to have a voice, but couldn’t!”_

_“Morlocks! Get ‘em!” Marrow screamed in fury, but as they were about to jump on them, Colossus, Jubilee, Iceman and Shadowcat pushed forward Masque, Azazel and Smog to remind them they still had a solid leverage for the negotiations to continue._

_“Not so fast!” Storm vociferated, her sapphire eyes turning to white. A gust of wind was summoned out of nowhere, engulfing the searing atmosphere._

_Colossus and Iceman covered themselves in metal and ice respectively; Shadowcat kept the three Tunnelers at bay, and Jubilee brought up her hands, presenting her pyrotechnic energy plasmoids. Rogue, unwilling to open her cards if it wasn’t absolutely necessary, grabbed her sticks from behind her back and took a battle position._

_At the sight of the power display, the Morlock fighters began to reconsider of getting into a quarrel with mutants possessing such powers. Most of the women and children fleeted, but the rest remained to see how this dispute would go down._

_“Rogue is right, Marrow,” Storm said giving her an accusatory look. “You’re an oppressor who cares more about power and authority than your people’s prosper! We came to offer an alliance and better life conditions for the Morlocks. But I don’t believe anymore you want this for them. To be honest, I’m surprised these people chose_ you _to lead them.”_

_“We didn’t.”_

_Everyone turned to the person who’d voiced that, and saw Tattoo watching them with inhibition._

_She looked at Rogue, who stared back at her, willing her to speak up. Tattoo felt her courage growing, and revealed the truth._

_“After Callisto left, Marrow stepped up as a leader because no one else was willing to be in charge; or fight Marrow for that position.”_

_“Keep your fucking mouth shut, little shit!” Marrow yelled. “No one asked for your opinion!”_

_“So_ this _is how you became a leader,” Storm nodded in contempt. “I should have guessed…”_

 _“Marrow sneered at her. “I’ve been a Morlock since I was a child. I spent all my life in this place, protecting it and following orders without a second thought. I’ve_ earned _my right to be on top of hierarchy. And as that trash told you,” she motioned with a glare at Tattoo, “_ No one _has ever dared to challenge me.”_

_“Let’s change that tonight then,” Storm said and strode to Marrow, looking at her straight in the eyes._

_“Marrow; I, Storm, challenge you for Morlocks’ leadership.”_

_At the sound of that, both the X Men and the Morlocks gaped. Marrow’s eyes widened, giving away how unexpected this was to her._

_“You mocked us when we told you we were coming in peace, thinking we’ve been too harsh to your men. Now you’ll experience firsthand what happens when the X Men decide to_ truly _use force,” Storm stated._

_All the mutants from both sides waited for Marrow’s verdict. The hardened woman looked at her people, gaining a few more precious seconds to reflect on what was the best course. Eventually, she eyed the weather goddess with resolution._

_“Challenge accepted,” Marrow whispered vehemently, and the tone of her voice sent a chill down Rogue’s spine. This wasn’t going well; all her instincts were screaming distrust about everything the Morlocks’ leader said or did._

_Storm nodded decisively. “Very well. Are there any rules the Morlocks go by when it comes to such states?”_

_“Yes,” Marrow goaded. “The_ leader’s _rules.”_

 _“Hold on there!” Jubilee jumped in. “_ You _get to decide about the rules of the fight? How’s that fair?”_

 _Marrow’s eyebrows quirked. “For the Morlocks the right is always with the strongest. Why you think I’ve never been challenged by anyone before? I’m the leader ‘cause I’m the_ best _of them all, so every rule and every law is established by_ me _.”_

 _Storm huffed in scorn. “I should have seen this coming, I suppose. Go ahead,_ ‘leader’ _; set the rules.”_

_Rogue’s eyes widened as she watched Storm giving the advantage to her opponent. She struggled to restrain herself from interfering._

_“No powers,” Marrow stated. “Hand-to-hand combat, with only_ one _weapon of choice to use._ I _get to make the pick. No interference from your people or mine till the fight is over.”_

_“And when does the fight over?” the weather witch asked._

_Marrow grinned, and Storm saw her eyes glitz wildly. “When one of us hits the ground dead.”_

_“_ Done _,” Storm declared._

 _“_ What _?_ NO! _” Rogue exclaimed, and Storm glared at her._

 _“Do_ not _interfere, Rogue!” she commanded._

_Rogue stared at her with a look of loss, and Ororo felt like she was gazing at a child that couldn’t comprehend why its mother had pulled her hand away from its grasp._

_“Storm-” she tried again, but this time the weather summoner didn’t let her finish._

_“You and the Professor asked me to lead this mission. You_ insisted _on me taking the responsibility of solving this matter. And this is what I’m doing. I gave you an order, so_ follow it! _”_

_Rogue felt a pang of guilt scorching her. Guilt for doubting her leader in front of everyone; guilt for being unable to protect her; guilt for dragging her into a situation that was now turning out to be a matter of life and death._

_She swallowed hard and nodded numbly, without saying anything more._

_Storm turned to her opponent. “Choose your weapon.”_

_Marrow smirked wickedly, and the X Men watched in shock the inside of her right forearm quivering and then distend, something long and solid fighting its way out of her skin. Eventually, her skin cracked open at her wrist and she pulled out a pointy, thick spear like object that turned out to be a bone._

_Marrow presented her weapon of choice cockily to Storm. “We fight with sticks. From what I see, you’re lucky enough to have one of your nosy toy soldiers carrying two with her,” she jibed, pointing with her bone stick to Rogue. “You can borrow one from her.”_

_“Sticks don’t have sharp edges, Marrow; this looks more of a_ spear _,” Storm protested._

 _“I can’t help what the bones look like when they come out,” she justified. “_ This _, is a stick,” Marrow emphasized._

_“Very well,” Storm subsided, and walked towards Rogue. She paused when she stood in front of her, looking a bit self-conscious._

_“I hope my previous admonishment didn’t anger you enough to deny me one of your sticks,” the weather witch tried to jest._

_Rogue sighed as a ghost smile appeared. Storm was never good with jokes. In all her flawlessness, lacking a decent sense of humor was one of the few things that reminded her that the weather goddess wasn’t so perfect after all. She had to cut some slack to her though; she_ was _making decent efforts to improve._

_She pulled a stick out of the sheath where she’d placed it a while ago. Storm reached her hand to take it, but Rogue tightened hers on the weapon, making the white-haired woman frown._

_“That’s not what we had in mind when the Professor and I asked you to lead the team. I shouldn’t have questioned your authority, but the idea was for you to negotiate,_ not _risk your life!”_

_Storm smiled reassuringly. “After all the sparring and the Danger Room sessions you and I had, I figured you had pegged me as a skilled fighter.”_

_Rogue tilted her head slightly, giving her a stern stare. “You’re one of the best warriors out there. I don’t think there are many who can equal you. But I also know that you’re an_ honorable _fighter; she’s_ not _. There’s no chance she won’t use that bone in another way the moment she sees she can’t pull through.”_

_“Rogue is right, Storm,” Pete interfered. “You can’t trust she’ll fight fairly, nor that her men won’t try to distract you if the scale leans towards you.”_

_“Please, listen to them, Storm,” Kitty stepped in. “Everything is in her favor. You fight in her terrain, with_ her _rules. Hate to say this, but you go against the odds here.”_

_“You’re more than just a leader to us, Stormy,” Jubilee added. “Bashing the hierarchy or not, Rogue was right to try and stop you. We don’t want to take your dead body back to the Prof!”_

_“Yeah, Storm, come on,” Bobby tried to coax her. “Let’s just leave. We can come up with a more effective plan and return later.”_

_“First of all, I don’t think they’re going to let us leave now,” Storm explained calmly. “Second, we still haven’t clarified what is going to be done with them,” she gestured at Masque, Smog and Azazel, who now looked exhausted. “And third and most important: I gave my word. Maybe she’s not honorable, but I am; I’m_ not _going to back down from this fight.”_

_The X Men looked at her discouraged. They had faith in Storm’s abilities, but their stay down here was taking its toll on her, and everything seemed to be in the Morlocks’ favor. Rogue placed a gloved hand on their team leader’s shoulder and presented the stick to her._

_“At least promise us one thing: if she decides to change the rules during the fight, you readapt as well; deal?”_

_Storm’s eyes narrowed in affront. “Are you asking me to fight dirty?”_

_“I’m asking you to take advantage of_ all _the usages this weapon has if she decides to turn the tables on you,” Rogue insisted, giving her a meaningful look._

_“Are you done with this bullshit? I don’t wanna spend my entire night with you assholes. Let’s get this over with,” Marrow ranted. Storm eyed her in chagrin._

_“Storm_ , _” Rogue called her again. “Promise me,” she pleaded, offering her the weapon._

_The weather witch looked at her with confidence and her hand grasped the one of Rogue’s that was holding the stick._

_“I’m_ not _going into this fight to lose,” she assured her, and her hand slid upwards, pulling the weapon out of Rogue’s fist. Before she left, she turned to the other X Men. “Remember what I told you before we entered this place; follow these orders, no matter what,” she pointed out._

_Rogue nodded and stepped aside, signaling the rest of the team to do the same in order to give enough space to both women. The Morlocks moved away as well, creating a wide circle around the two female mutants._

_“You’re right, Marrow,” Storm said. “Let’s get this over with.”_

_The two women took positions against each other. Rogue gestured to the X Men to be ready for fight. She was almost certain Marrow wouldn’t play fair and the Morlocks would follow her example. The way they were slowly spreading around, and the fact that three of them stood in front of the only exit, verified her suspicions. She turned her attention back to Marrow, giving her a scrutinizing gaze, trying to find any weaknesses Storm would be able to take advantage._

_While checking her fight stance, Rogue noticed the inside of Marrow’s forearm from where she’d pulled out her bone stick from. No bleeding, no slit on the skin anymore. Nothing to indicate there’s been a wound there few minutes ago._

Healing factor.

Shit, _Rogue thought._ That’s a hell of an advantage. What other powers that bitch has up her sleeve?

_Marrow gave the first strike, which Storm easily blocked. The two leaders started “dancing” around each other, moving with agility, precision and caution. They were both careful enough not to reveal all of their strengths at once, and for several moments it seemed that the hits they were giving to each other were more of a way to try and “read” their opponent than anything else._

_The Morlocks started to cheer for Marrow, and Colossus with Iceman took a couple of steps towards Rogue. She waved at them to wait, and told Kitty and Jubilee to make sure Masque, Azazel and Smog – who were getting more and more restless – would stay put. Rogue made sure her focus was not on the battle alone, but also on her surroundings, and braced herself; it wouldn’t be long before their own tournament began._

_Storm was answering every strike from Marrow, realizing that the woman was not falsely goading when she’d claimed she was the best. Her attacks had a precision, speed and strength above the average, which made the weather witch quickly realize that her mutation was giving her enhanced abilities. There was no way she’d be able to defeat her depended on force; she’d need to use advanced strategy to bring her down._

_Making a swift rotation, Storm was about to land a backhand blow with her stick, but Marrow dodged it by bending her knees and lowering her torso. While she was coiled like that, she aimed the spike of her bone stick towards Storm’s side and thrusted forward to land a stab on her ribs._

_Storm saw it coming, and rapidly shuffled back her right foot; she turned her arm in such angle for her elbow to point upward, so her stick was vertically downward, blocking and simultaneously guiding Marrow’s stick away from her._

_“_ Hey _!” Rogue yelled, as she watched Marrow rolling away from Storm after her failed attempt to wound her. She stood up, and turned around to take fight position again._

 _“What was_ that _?” the weather goddess hissed. “We’re supposed to fight with_ sticks _, Marrow!_ You _were the one who decided this! You’re breaking your own rules now?” she accused the Morlocks’ leader._

 _Marrow sneered and pointed her weapon at Storm once more. “_ My _rules,_ my _call!”_

_Storm glanced at her team who were outraged by the blatant game changer. She looked at Rogue, who nodded fiercely at her, encouraging her to use her weapon at its full extend._

_“If this is how you’re going to play, Marrow,” Storm warned in a menacing voice, “then I’d be happy to follow your lead.”_

_She brought up the stick and grabbed the edges with each hand. The deft fingers of her right hand turned slightly one of the cylinders on the stick’s base._

_Suddenly a_ tsuba _appeared, and Storm pulled the metal sheath away to reveal a straight steel blade, turning the seemingly stick into a_ wakizashi _._

_At the sight of the blade, Marrow flustered, and her previous certainty about the battle’s outcome wavered. She gritted her teeth, and planted her feet solidly, as Storm took her place against her once more._

_“Shall we finish this?” the weather witch taunted, raising a provoking eyebrow._

_“Oh, yeah; we_ shall _,” Marrow spat, and turned to the Morlocks. “Get the Tunnelers and kill ‘em all!”_

_Before her leader had finished screaming her order, Feral was already charging towards the X Men with a loud growl. Rogue moved fast, and in one swift motion she grabbed her other stick from her back and threw it between Feral’s feet, making her trip and ending up on the ground. She watched from the corner of her eye the rest of the Morlocks sprinting towards her teammates._

_Rogue ran towards Feral while shouting orders to the team. “Colossus, full attack! Iceman, ice the floor!”_

_Colossus, who had already turned to metal, was going against two Morlocks – Erg and one shapeshifter. At the same time, Iceman was dealing with a man who seemed to secrete acid and a woman that began to exhale a strong wind from her mouth. Iceman instantly froze it, and then blew it into shards of ice that landed on several Morlocks. He then froze the floor in certain points, making it hard for many of them to get closer to Kitty and Jubilee._

_Rogue had jumped on Feral while she was on the ground, grabbing her stick and pressing it on Feral’s throat to keep her down._

_At the sight of this commotion, Storm had halted, unsure of whether to finish the fight or go help her team._

_Rogue made the decision for her, while she was pinning Feral down._

_“GET HER, STORM!” she shouted, and Storm turned in time to see Marrow lunge against her._

_Feral took advantage of Rogue’s distraction to bring her tail around her neck and start strangling her. Rogue had to let go of the stick and grab Feral’s tail that kept getting tighter. Fearing she might lose consciousness, Rogue took advantage of the fact that she was kneeling between Feral’s legs, and managed to lift her right knee enough to land it with all her mass behind it on her vagina._

_Feral shrieked and released Rogue; she placed a flexible foot on her chest and pushed her away with all her might, throwing Rogue down._

_Rogue landed on the hard, wet concrete with a loud splash, her muscles and bones singing in pain from the rough contact. Droplets of water jumped all over while she was trying to come around. Feral gave a leap and ended up on top of her; she snarled and showed off her claws, ready to plunge them inside her. A moment before she buried her claws in Rogue’s throat, Rogue managed to lift her forearms to create an X, blocking Feral’s hands. She then grabbed them, and guided her claws on the side to meet the ground._

_The smash of Feral’s long nails on the cement left her with several bleeding fingers, exposed flesh that her claws once protected, and an excruciating pain that made her to straighten her torso abruptly and howl like mad._

_Rogue took advantage of that to send a thrusting half fist to her neck, making her gasp for air. She kicked Feral to the chest with both legs, and sent her lying on her back again. Rogue used the force of the kick to make a back flip and stood up, running to where her stick was lying. She placed a foot under it and lifted it high enough for her to grab it and release the blade in order to face two more Morlocks who were coming for her._

_Colossus was fighting against the shapeshifter who’d turned into him, while dodging the energy blasts Erg was firing, until he found an open and landed a solid punch on the shapeshifter’s diaphragm, making him double over, trying to catch his breath. Colossus used this opportunity to lift the shapeshifter and throw him straight on Erg, putting them both out of commission._

_The metal giant suddenly felt something tightening around both of his legs. He looked down and saw the blob-like mutant engulfing his limbs like a snake. He tried to move, but found it impossible. He grabbed the mutant with all his might and tried to squash him, but the amorphous creature trapped Colossus’ hands by encircling them._

_The steel titan felt the creature clutching harder all the while climbing onto his neck, making him unable to move, when cold air engulfed him and saw the mutant’s “tentacles” freeze and then smash into pieces._

_Once he was able to move, Colossus whipped around to see Iceman freezing the amorphous mutant by putting his hands on him, then pulling to rip him off and away from his teammate._

_With several battles taking place, Scaleface used the commotion to climb above Shadowcat and Jubilee in an effort to free the three Tunnelers. As the two X Women were trying to keep Masque and his men close, Scaleface managed to land on Jubilee and knock her down, while using her tail to whip Kitty._

_Shadowcat phased through the tail, but that gave the opportunity to Azazel and Smog to get free from her grasp and start to run. Scaleface took the rug out of Masque’s mouth, who started to shriek to the Tunnelers and the Morlocks to finish the X Men._

_Jubilee quickly gave a jump and stood on her feet again, watching Kitty sprinting towards Smog and Azazel, diving right between them in the ground while grabbing one leg from each and phase them through the concrete, thus trapping them under it._

_Jubilee went after Masque and Scaleface. She gave a leap and rolled when she reached the ground, getting close to grab Scaleface’s tail hard enough to slide between her legs while pulling her back. She turned around quickly on one knee and threw plasma blasts on the reptile-looking woman, knocking her unconscious._

_She was about to go behind Masque, when she heard Iceman yell, “Oh no, you won’t, Freddy Krueger!” His hands sprayed enough ice to create a huge ice cube around Masque’s feet while he was on the run, thus trapping him and making him fall down._

_A couple of Morlocks who’d made the mistake to go for the prisoners, met with Shadowcat’s fighting skills. She placed one hand on each trapped Tunneler’s shoulder to lift her body, twist her torso and land a side kick on one bulky guy’s chest, sending him away from Azazel and Smog. She then turned to face the other, while Jubilee was using her blasts to keep the rest at a distance._

_Rogue had just restrained two more Morlocks, when she was attacked by Feral again – this time from behind. She stroke Rogue’s hand, making her drop her_ wakizashi _, grabbed her and turned her around, slicing her with her newly grown claws._

_Rogue avoided the first slice and blocked the second quickly with her forearm, her suit protecting her from severe cuts. But Feral – like most feral mutants – had enhanced senses, speed and agility, and Rogue was getting tired from the constant fighting and the lack of oxygen. Her moves grew slower and that gave the opportunity to Feral to land her claws on Rogue’s face, carving her left cheek._

_Rogue groaned in pain and her senses numbed even more. Feral seized the chance to kick her in the gut and swipe her feet off the floor, bringing her down once more. She placed a hairy foot on her throat and started to pressure, forcing Rogue to grab it with both hands from choking her._

_Feral chortled. “Not so tough now, are ya, bitch? What kind of useless powers you have anyway, not even tryin’ to use them?” she mocked._

_Rogue moved her left hand, and with a curt move she released a knife that was hidden under her forearm. She plunged it with all her strength into Feral’s ankle and made her scream in pain once more._

_“I don’t need powers to kick your hairy ass,_ bitch _!” Rogue hissed, and threw a punch to Feral’s vagina for a second time; she then upheaved, recoiled and steadied herself on one knee, grabbing Feral’s legs and pulling them while pushing with her left shoulder Feral’s body, bringing her down at the same time she was coming up._

 _Rogue gave a hard kick with her boot to Feral’s mouth, making her spit out some teeth, and then went for her_ wakizashi _. She picked it up and stood above Feral as she brought both hands on the base of her weapon, rolling another cylinder to release a second blade, turning the_ wakizashi _into a double blade staffed sword._

_At that moment, she heard someone coming from behind. She turned and brought her weapon forward, but before she was able to do anything more, she saw Tattoo emerging from the ground to stand between her and the Morlock who was about to jump her._

_“_ Berzerker, don’t! _” Tattoo called to him, and raised her hands in defense. Uncanny shapes began to form on her face and hands. The man sneered at her, creating an electric blast between his palms._

_“You fuckin’ cunt! Betraying’ your own people! You deserve to die with them!” he snarled, and fired at her._

_Tattoo created the same force field Rogue had seen her bring up earlier that night, keeping both of them safe from the attack._

_Berzerker kept charging at them and Tattoo continued to block him, until he was too exhausted to keep making electric shots. His hands dropped and he puffed from the excessive effort._

_Tattoo used this opportunity to run and shove a front kick between his legs. While he was too busy gaping, she landed an uppercut on his face, putting him to sleep._

_“Not tonight, asshole,” Tattoo uttered, spitting on him in contempt._

_She whipped her head to see Rogue staring at her with an impressed grin. Tattoo smiled back, and Rogue bowed slightly in gratitude. She then turned to see the X Men having the upper hand on the Morlocks, yet becoming more and more exhausted, while Storm was still going toe-to-toe with Marrow._

_They’ve had enough._

_“I’m done with this bullshit,” Rogue hissed, and turned to Tattoo. “Cover your eyes,” she urged her, and while Tattoo was taking her advice, she called Jubilee._

_“Jubilee!” the Asian mutant looked at her. “Light this place up!”_

_Jubilee was about to get attacked by a Morlock, and made a back handstand to avoid it. Once she landed, her hands fired huge plasma bolts towards the tunnel ceiling that illuminated the whole place._

_The Morlocks, unused to the light after all the time they’d spent in the sewers, screamed in pain as the brightness of the fireworks blinded them and rushed to cover their eyes, shrinking away as much as possible._

_Rogue seized the chance to throw her double edged sword on a Morlock who was coming towards her, nailing his shoulder on the wall. She took some rope from her utility belt and tied Feral’s hands and legs, while the rest of the X Men were immobilizing the Morlocks in every way they could._

_After she was done, Rogue went to the Morlock she’d thrown her staff to. She punched him on the face and pulled her weapon free while she watched him sliding down the wall unconscious. She then turned to see how Storm was doing. She had several cuts to her arms and legs, and sweat was pouring from her forehead. This was going on for too long, and Rogue began to worry that the weather witch wasn’t gonna make it._

_Storm and Marrow kept swinging and thrusting, blocking and striking. She was pushed away by Storm after another failed attempt to stab her and after Jubilee’s fireworks died, the leader of the Morlocks looked around realizing what had taken place. She saw her people defeated, beaten and restrained. She froze on the spot, unable to believe it._

_“It’s over, Marrow,” Storm said, trying to catch her breath. “As you can see, my team has won; your people are either tethered or unconscious. Surrender, and put this battle to an end.”_

_“NO!” Marrow shrieked and charged once more, lifting her spear above her head. Storm lowered her base and a second before Marrow landed her hit, the weather witch – in a perfectly calculated move – blocked Marrow’s strike and tackled her._

_Marrow fell on her face, dropping her weapon. As she turned to get up, she saw Storm kneeling above her, her blade only an inch away from Marrow’s heart._

_“Yield,” the weather goddess whispered in warning._

_“Never!” Marrow hissed, and Storm pushed the tip of the blade hard enough to break the skin of her chest. Marrow’s face contorted in pain, but she didn’t back down. “You wanna be the leader of the Morlocks? Then you’ll have to_ kill _me,” she said through gritted teeth._

 _“I_ don’t _want to kill you!” Storm reprimanded. “I never wanted things to go this far! This was_ your _choice, Marrow. You changed the rules during the fight; you can do it again – this time for the right reason.”_

_Marrow was adamant. “What good my life is if I surrender to my enemy?”_

_“_ You fool _! You still don’t get it? We are_ not _the enemy!” Storm shouted. “All we were aiming for was to help you. Stop acting like the whole world is against you! And most important, start acting like a Morlock!”_

_Marrow’s eyes widened, but she didn’t react. Storm glared at her in anger._

_“You said you’ve been a Morlock since you were a child. These people took you in as one of their own, they raised you, and this is how you repay them? By choosing your ego than to stay and secure their safety and existence?”_

_Marrow glanced at the Morlocks with regret. Storm saw this as a chance to make her have a change of heart._

_“Your people_ need _their leader, Marrow. Change the rules, surrender and bring this battle to an end.”_

 _Marrow stared at her and curled her lips in a bitter smile. “I don’t have to change the rules._ You’re _the leader of the Morlocks now._ You _change them,” she muttered in aversion._

_The Morlocks gasped in shock, realizing what Marrow’s words meant. Storm pulled the blade away and reached a hand to her opponent._

_Marrow hesitated for a moment, but then grasped the offered hand and rose. Rogue moved towards Storm with her double edged sword resting inside her fist vertically; one blade was lying behind her arm, and the other was looking towards the ground – a haft that would allow her to use her staff swiftly to a possible attack. A precaution in case someone decided to go against the new leader._

_The weather witch called at the X Men to make sure everyone was alright. They all reassured her, and seeing that there was nothing but fatigue on their faces and some rips on their uniforms, her worries were quelled. When Rogue approached her she noticed her slit, bleeding cheek; with wide worried eyes, she reached a hand towards the gashes underneath the bruise she’d gotten from her fight with Azazel earlier. Rogue shook her head dismissively, trying to ignore the buzzing pain that kept growing._

_“It’s nothing, just a scratch,” she lied, trying to appease her._

_Jubilee saw Storm’s expression and ran to Rogue._

_“Chica, what’s wro-_ holy shit _!” she shrieked when she saw her friend’s carved face._

_“It’s fine Jubilee, really,” Rogue insisted. She pulled the extended blade of her weapon back in with a swift move and sheathed the other, setting the stick behind her back again._

_Jubilee turned to Feral who was still tied on the ground, and infuriated bared her teeth at her. “You-” she snarled, and began to stride towards her, but Rogue quickly grabbed her from the waist._

_“Easy now! Seriously, Jubilee, let it go; it’s over.”_

_But Jubilee was far too pissed to do that._

“You ugly motherfuckers need to stop ruining good looks and taste!” _she screamed, and both the Morlocks and the X Men stared at her dumbfounded._

_Rogue’s jaw dropped. She carefully placed a hand on her heaving teammate’s arm soothingly._

_“Jubes,” she said in a low voice, with both eyebrows raised. “Calm down.” She made a “tone it down” gesture with her hand at the petite Asian._

_“No, Roguey, this is too fuckin’ much!” she kept going. “Attacking people is one thing, but making them look like shit and offending any basic sense of style, is_ way _too much for me to handle!”_

_Jubilee whipped around in time to see both Storm and Marrow looking at her stunned. That made her self-conscious enough to restrain herself a bit, but not enough to keep her from ranting against the Morlocks some more._

_“Look, Storm, sorry I exploded like that, I know you’re our leader – and also the leader of the gutter people now – and I know I don’t have the right to tell you what to do, but…like it wasn’t enough we had to deal with this Frankenstein shit these morons were doing to people to make it look like it’s Halloween every day, they tried to mess with our fancy looks too!” she said in one breath._

_“Now, I don’t know what you’re gonna do with the not-so-mainstream mutants, but you gotta make ‘pretty boy’ over there,” she pointed towards Masque, “to stop giving bad face lifts to everyone, and make these guys look like they used to. Seriously now, my eyes are hurtin’!”_

_Colossus, Shadowcat and Iceman tried awkwardly to hide their faces. Rogue put one hand on her hip and the other covered her eyes in embarrassment. Storm shook her head, trying to suppress a growing smirk._

_“Believe me, Jubilee this is one of the things I intend to do,” the weather witch confirmed._

_“Great!” Jubilee exhaled, and clapped her hands together. “Should I go and bring the ugly ducklings in?”_

_Storm eyed Rogue with a painful expression, and Rogue’s pursed lips grinned, as she lifted a brow and shrugged a shoulder in a “that’s Jubes for ya.”_

_Storm looked back to Jubilee. “Go. Iceman; remove the ice so the people can enter safely,” she ordered. “Colossus, Shadowcat; free the Morlocks from their restraints.”_

_“Even those three?” Colossus showed at Masque, Smog and Azazel._

_Storm narrowed her eyes to them. “As you saw and heard, I’m the new leader of the Morlocks. Can I trust that you three won’t question my authority?”_

_Azazel and Smog, desperate to be released, nodded vividly; Masque didn’t._

_“I will never follow orders from you! You’re not my-”_

_“_ Do as she says, Masque! _” Marrow yelled at him, and the man shrank. She then jerked her head at Storm. “_ She’s _our leader now.”_

_Storm gave her an appreciative nod, and glowered at Masque once more. “So?”_

_Masque realizing he was the only one willing to question the new leader, nodded in defeat. Shadowcat and Colossus began to release him, while Jubilee and Iceman were bringing every other mutant in._

_Once they were all gathered, Storm spoke to them._

_“Morlocks! For those of you who had been absent, after a battle that occurred, I have taken the leadership from Marrow, thus becoming your new leader.”_

_A few whispers occurred after that revelation, but died quickly enough._

_“As the leader of the Morlocks, I have reached the conclusion that many of the laws you’ve been following do not exist for the benefit of you or this community; so I’ve decided to revoke them._

_Every mutant who wishes to join the Morlocks will be allowed regardless of their appearances or mutations. The only condition for them to be accepted will be to_ not _engage in illegal activities against the humans, other mutants and the society above._

 _As for the mutants who have been deformed in order to fit in, you are free to ask from Masque to restore your faces._ No one _will judge you or try to exclude you because of your decision.”_

_At the sound of this, many of the human looking mutants cheered, while the ones who had extreme appearances because of their mutation began to protest. Storm was quick to ease the clamor._

_“You formed this society because you wanted to belong somewhere! Because you weren’t human-looking enough for the world to accept you! Look at your fellow mutants that can pass as ‘normal’,” she instructed, and the extreme-looking ones, turned towards the people who’d been forced in deformation._

_“Do you think that they asked sanctuary down here because they were treated better than you?” Storm asked. “They can pass for humans, and yet they were persecuted. There were chased because of their powers as well! So, what makes you think they’re any different? What makes you think you are not equals?”_

_Storm paused to let her words sink and watched as the Morlocks who didn’t need Masque’s aid to be accepted, began to see the rest of the tunnel dwellers under a new light._

_Rogue smiled. After a night filled with fights and violence, a wind of change seemed to finally blow in this dark place._

_Storm nodded satisfied and turned to Masque, pointing her blade at him. “You! Unmake the damage you’ve done to these people now, or Goddess my witness, I will cut off your head!”_

_Colossus grabbed Masque from the nape and dragged him before the deformed mutants. Hesitantly, one by one, they began to approach the man who’d disfigured them in order to have their faces restored._

_After the last one was done, Storm turned back to the Morlocks and shot a threatening gaze at Masque. “The Tunnelers and their criminal activities end tonight! No more attacks on the people above for_ any _reason!”_

_“But what about food and clothing?” someone asked. “How are we going to survive?”_

_“The X Men will see to that,” Storm reassured. “Marrow will give us a full list of needed provisions and they will be delivered to you within the next 48 hours; you have my word.”_

_The Morlocks nodded satisfied, and Storm sheathed the_ wakizashi _. There was one last thing that needed to be settled._

_“When are you moving down here?” Marrow asked, and the X Men surprised turned to look at their leader. That hadn’t occurred to them. Storm was now the leader of the Morlocks too. She couldn’t lead by distance, nor could she be complacent that her orders would be followed if she wasn’t around to make sure of it._

_“I don’t have to,” Storm said to Marrow, who frowned at her._

_“You’re already a leader. You know that you can’t lead a group if you’re not present. If the Morlocks aren’t going to have you around, how are you going to secure their prosperity? Or solve the problems that might come up?”_

_“Because_ you _are going to do it for me,” Storm responded, and left both mutant factions confounded once more._

_“What are you talking about?” Marrow was perplexed._

_Storm turned to the Morlocks once more. “Morlocks; because of my duties as an X Man, I cannot stay permanently down here with you. But that does not mean that the position of the leader will be headless. During my absence, Marrow will be in charge.”_

_Marrow’s eyes widened._

_“You’ll be taking orders from her,” the weather witch kept on. “She will be the one to report directly to me for any matter that might come up, and_ she’s _the one who will make sure the new laws will be carried out. Have I made myself clear?”_

_The Morlocks agreed in unison, and Storm extended a hand to Marrow, who took it with the upmost respect._

_“Now, if there’s nothing else that needs to be addressed, it’s time to go,” Storm said. She was about to go to her team, when some women with their children approached her._

_“When you first came here you said that you live in a school for mutants. Is that true?” one of them asked._

_“Yes,” the weather witch nodded. “I, as well as some others, teach there, making sure the young mutants we welcome learn how to control their powers and receive proper education in a safe and protected environment.”_

_The women looked at each other, thinking about it for a moment. Then, another asked tentatively. “Can we...come and stay with you at the school?”_

_The X Men and the Morlocks waited for Storm’s verdict._

_The weather witch felt her heart clench. These women had come down here to protect their children and themselves from bigotry and hate, but the conditions were inhuman – especially for the young ones. These poor mothers wanted the best for their children, and she couldn’t deny them that. If these people wanted a better chance, she was going to give it to them. She was certain that after he’d listen to what had taken place here, the Professor wouldn’t object to this._

_“Everyone who wishes to leave the tunnels and come with me at Xavier’s institute is more than welcome. But you need to make the decision now.”_

_The mothers gasped in joy and approached, as Storm signaled the X Men to gather them and prepare to leave. They had stalled enough already._

_Some young men and women who seemed to have recently joined the Morlocks stepped up too. The original tunnel dwellers remained in place. Storm could understand why. A lifetime spent underground was far too much for them to be able to leave it behind. It didn’t matter; the X Men would still help them make the best of it._

_Rogue was helping her teammates gather the people, and then checked to see if there was anyone else who wanted to join them._

_Storm went to her. “Are we ready?”_

_She nodded. “Whenever you are.”_

_The weather witch nodded back. “Good; let’s go.”_

_As they were about to leave, Storm turned to Marrow once more. “Remember, Marrow; make sure the laws are followed and the Tunnelers stay at bay,” she glanced at Masque._

_“Will do,” Marrow assured her._

_Rogue was walking with Storm towards the exit, when she hovered. The weather goddess stared her confused._

_“What’s wrong?”_

_Rogue turned around and looked at Tattoo. She was certain the young girl would be the first to follow them, but for some reason, she had decided to stay._

_Rogue took another shot. “Is there anyone else who wants to come?”_

_No one spoke. She couldn’t bring herself to leave without making one last attempt. “You’re sure?” she asked Tattoo straight._

_The green-haired girl watched her conflicted, but she remained in place._

_Rogue lowered her eyes disappointed. She pulled herself together immediately and looked up. “If any of you ever changes their mind…you know where to find us,” she offered, and after one last look at the young woman, she left._

_~~~~~~_

_Storm was checking her injuries as she waited for Rogue. She stayed with her behind the people they were escorting. Iceman and Colossus were leading at the front, while Jubilee and Shadowcat were close to the children, making sure they would all get out safely._

_While the two women were walking side by side, Storm gave the stick back. “Thank you.”_

_Rogue offered her a lopsided grin as she took it. “My pleasure. You know how much I enjoy watching you kick ass.”_

_Storm laughed out loud. “The feeling is mutual. But that’s not what I was talking about.”_

_Rogue tilted her head in question and Ororo smiled._

_“Thank you for_ everything _. You’ve done more than just helping me fight my way out of this situation; you helped me keep my claustrophobia at bay. I had never managed to do this until tonight. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have made it.”_

_Rogue shook her head. “You’re giving me too much credit. You’re the one who put your fear under control. If you had decided to give into it, there wouldn’t be a damned thing I’d be able to do.”_

_Storm grinned enigmatically._

_“What?” Rogue asked, narrowing her eyes teasingly._

_“The way you asked from Marrow to talk to the Morlocks and then the speech you gave; you spoke and acted like a true leader,” Ororo appraised her._

_Rogue’s stare gave away her surprise; she didn’t expect that. She quickly recovered and snorted in response._

_“I got Marrow so pissed, she ordered her henchmen to attack us, and forced you into a battle with her to death. Some leader decision I’ve made…”_

_“You took a risk you thought it would help to get us through a situation that was leading to a dead end; this is_ exactly _what leaders do,” Storm insisted. “Being a gifted strategist is not always adequate. Sometimes you have to listen to your instincts, reform the original plan and make hard decisions hoping for the best possible outcome._

_Given the circumstances we were dealing with, the chance you took didn’t cause the embroilment; it just sped it up. That also gave us the opportunity for a power display that will make the Morlocks think twice if they decide to engage in criminal activities again. Plus, you made it much easier for them to compromise with the new status.”_

_Rogue smirked condescendingly. “That was_ you _, Ororo. Your victory over Marrow, the mercy you showed, and reestablishing her as their leader did that.”_

_“You’re wrong,” the weather witch objected. “I saw how the people were looking at you when you spoke to them; the hope in their eyes when they watched you standing up for them, Tattoo’s courage to speak up. Also, the ‘extreme-looking’ Morlocks wouldn’t have receded so easily, nor the deformed ones and the mothers would have stood up and demand a better living if it wasn’t for your opposition.”_

_Rogue thought about it for some time as they kept walking together. “Maybe you’re right. But that doesn’t mean I’m leader material.”_

_“You had no problem leading the X Men in missions so far,” Storm observed, and Rogue looked at her perplexed._

_“Storm, where are you getting at?” she asked, realizing slowly what the weather witch was implying._

_The blue fire that was dancing in Ororo’s eyes pierced the younger woman with the white streaks._

_“I believe you can be a great leader for the X Men, Rogue.”_

_Rogue stopped on her tracks. Her mind was spinning, trying to find something worthy to say to that offer, but the only thing that came out was denial._

_“_ No _;_ you’re _the leader, Storm._ You _make the decisions. The Professor himself chose you for this position. You can’t step down from it!”_

_“Rogue, child; calm down,” the ebony woman tried to appease her. “I’m not resigning from my responsibilities as a leader. I’m just asking you to think about taking the place I occupied when Scott was still alive. He was the official leader, but I was always there by his side, co-leading in several occasions. You’re still very young, but I can already see your potential. The way you interfered in order to keep me from fighting Marrow-”_

_“That was disobedience, Storm,” Rogue pointed out. “I broke the hierarchy and questioned your authority in front of everyone! You should penalize me, not praise me for it!”_

_“I’m not encouraging you to overlook my authority. But I do know that you reacted in such manner because you put my safety above everything else. You made an initiative based on my well being; and_ that’s _how a leader must always think. Leaders become the ones who are far better in giving orders than taking them,” she half jested._

_“We both know that’s not the case,” Rogue disagreed._

_“Rogue,” Storm said, and placed her hand graciously on her hooded head. “I’m not one to give compliments or embellish the truth. What I say, I believe it. And I’m not the only one; there are people at the Mansion that believe you can be my equal in many aspects. You could easily be a co-leader, standing by my side.”_

_“The Professor is thinking too much of me,” Rogue protested._

_“The Professor is not the only one who believes that,” Ororo retaliated, without revealing anything further._

_They were getting closer to exit this place, and for a while both women dwelled in their thoughts. Storm was pondering that maybe her friend needed some more time to accept the idea of leadership, when Rogue gave her answer._

_“Maybe there’s a fraction of leader in me, and maybe one day it will be a possibility; but right now I can’t see it happening. It’s one thing to lead a team and a whole other to make choices for an entire faction. I’m not like you, Ororo; I’m not made for this.”_

_“You absolutely are,” Storm persisted. “And perhaps one day you’ll have to. But until that day comes –_ if _it comes – I’m not going to push you again. I understand.”_

_“I appreciate the sentiment, and please don’t take this in the wrong way, but I don’t think you do,” Rogue responded._

_The weather witch smiled again, feeling like she was dealing with a stubborn child._

_“Don’t underestimate my ability to read you. I’m fully aware that one of the reasons you don’t like to lead is the exact same reason you rather take the biggest risk of a mission on your shoulders than jeopardize anyone else’s safety.”_

_Rogue pushed down the lump that was closing her throat. “People died for me –_ because _of me – too many times; no more.”_

_Storm resigned with a doleful sigh. The young woman was still plagued with guilt that had taken a deep root within her. If she let it grow any stronger, it would end up strangling her. Ororo had seen two more of her friends lose themselves like that. One was a man that she saw as a brother, spending most of their youth side by side, first as protégés, then as friends, and then as teachers and teammates. The other she knew much less, but he’d turned out to be a loyal friend, ally and a powerful fellow fighter as well._

_Both had been lost to her by grief and remorse. She didn’t want to lose another._

_“Rogue,” she spoke like an older sister._

_She turned to her, and Storm moved her hand to Rogue’s arm._

_“Don’t let these moments take you over,” she advised._

_“I think I’m already doing that,” Rogue choked._

_Ororo’s touch became tighter. “Then reach within and cut them out.” Her plea had been expressed with such conviction, it almost sounded like an order._

_Rogue focused at the people they were escorting, and Storm noticed that same vulnerability and uncertainty she’d witnessed in her four years ago at a heavily snowed Canadian scape._

_“I’ll try,” she whispered, and Storm let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding._

_They reached the ladder that lead outside, and Bobby began to climb it to remove the slid in order to make the women and children’s extraction easier. Piotr, Kitty and Jubilee would aid them, and Rogue along with Storm remained back to make sure no one would be left behind._

_Rogue made a face in pain as she brought her hand up to her scathed cheek. She closed her eyes tiredly. The constant buzzing and swelling from her skin’s efforts to take care of tonight’s injuries were adding to her exhaustion._

_Catching the notion, Storm went closer to get a better look at the wound. “Once we return to the Mansion, I want you to go straight to Hank to examine this. You leave the rest to us,” she ordered, not leaving any room for arguments._

_Rogue gave her a consenting nod. “Will do.” She was too tired and her patience had been challenged far too many times tonight to put on her stoic face._

_As they watched the first child going up, Rogue muttered her doubts to the weather witch. “You know that Masque and his boyband are not gonna play nice, right? They’re not fit for that.”_

_Storm blinked in agreement. “I am aware. Let’s just hope that Marrow will notify us in time.”_

_“You believe she will?” Rogue asked._

_Storm tensed. “For her own sake, I hope she does.”_

_“And if she does? How are you going to deal with it?” Rogue insisted._

_“Laws are laws. Those who break them will be punished severely. If they cannot understand mercy and compassion, then they’ll taste cruelty,” the weather goddess stated._

_“Good,” Rogue said. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”_

_Storm watched her carefully. She was aware that what was eating her teammate wasn’t so much the Tunnelers who might defect, but their young female member that chose to stay behind._

_“Rogue,” Ororo addressed her once more._

_“Hmm?” she grunted._

_“The young girl with the strange tattoos and the green hair,” Storm peered at Rogue, who turned her gaze back to the ascending mutants._

_“What about her?” she tried to sound indifferent._

_“She protected you during the battle and seemed genuinely impressed by you.”_

_Rogue snorted, but that didn’t keep Storm from asking what she wanted._

_“Why do you think she stayed back when it was quite obvious she wanted to leave with us?”_

_Rogue shook her head. “She wasn’t ready. Wanting something is not enough; you gotta be receptive to it. She’s too afraid to let go of what she’s used to – even though she’s perfectly aware it’s not good for her.”_

_The weather goddess was in accord with this. “The child is ‘sick’.”_

_“Yes,” Rogue said curtly._

_“She needs help,” Storm offered, and Rogue nodded back._

_“She does. But we can’t offer it to her. She’s the one who has to ask for it.”_

_Ororo was about to say something, when both women heard loud splashing noises coming from behind them. They both whipped around quickly, Rogue grabbing her sticks as the sound of running steps were coming rapidly towards them._

_“What is it, chica?” Jubilee asked, and saw a form sprinting to them. Both Kitty and Jubilee turned their flashlights on it and saw Tattoo, who slowed down until she stopped right in front of them._

_She was trying to catch her breath and Rogue sheathed her sticks, waiting for her to talk._

_Tattoo stood up straight and her eyes went from Rogue to Storm with an expectant look._

_“I-I changed my mind,” she said with a clipped breath. “I wanna come with you.”_

_Rogue felt the corners of her mouth turn up, as she and Ororo looked at each other. The weather witch beamed encouragingly._

_“Sure,” Rogue nodded, and Tattoo gave her a tired smile._

_“What made you change your mind?” Storm asked softly._

_The young woman faltered. “These guys took me in when I was kicked out of my house and had no place to go. I felt like I owed them. It didn’t seem right to abandon them. But…” she left the sentence hanging._

_Rogue motioned in understanding. “That’s why you joined the Tunnelers.” It was more of a conclusion than a question._

_Tattoo’s shoulders slumped in regret. “Masque was pissed when he found out he couldn’t ‘transform’ me. My powers wouldn’t let his mutation work on me. Everyone hated me because of that.”_

_“That doesn’t excuse what you did! When you saw what they were doing, you should’ve left!” Kitty accused her._

_Rogue gave her a stern look and Storm tried to ease the tension._

_“Kitty! No one is going through trial here,” she chided._

_“Yeah, but shouldn’t they?” Kitty insisted, and Jubilee rolled her eyes. “You saw what they did-”_

“Shadowcat!”

_Kitty’s head snapped back in surprise. Rogue rarely called her with her codename, and that was only during missions. It was the first time she was using it to berate her._

_“In case you forgot, Tattoo was the only one who didn’t attack us back at the alley._ And _she covered me when a Tuneller tried to fry me. As far as I’m concerned, we_ owe _her. Now, until you end up on the streets to see what it takes to survive, keep your opinion to yourself. ‘Cause from what I remember, unlike many of us,_ you _were_ escorted _to the Mansion straight from your home’s safety –_ and _with your parents’ blessings – by the Professor himself. You never had to struggle with rejection, or make efforts to belong, so let it lie!”_

_Kitty winced, and Storm sensing Rogue’s rising indignation, went to her and Jubilee. She gently pushed them towards the last of the mutants, who were waiting for their turn to go up, in order to help them._

_Rogue went back to Tattoo again with an apologetic expression. A thought crossed her mind about the young girl’s choice to look the way she did and decided to vocalize it._

_“Is that why you wear your hair like that and made these tattoos on your face? So you’d be accepted?”_

_Tattoo pressed her lips exasperated. “I was…I just wanted to fit in, you know? Have a place to belong. Humans kicked me out because I was a freak and then mutants spat on me because I wasn’t_ enough _of a freak?_ What the fuck! _What does this fuckin’ world want anyway?” she lashed out._

_Rogue felt a rising wave of sorrow and compassion, seeing a copy of her adolescent self staring back at her._

_She took Tattoo’s face in her gloved hands gently, and watched the angry tears that began to form with affection._

_“I know_ exactly _how that feels,” she said with all the emotion that was swelling within her. This girl had gone through what she had and she had inevitably gone down the same path too. No wonder she felt this close to her._

_“Rogue,” Storm called calmly._

_She glanced at her. There was no one else left except the three of them._

_Rogue hovered for a second, and then made up her mind. “You go, Storm. We’ll be up in a minute.”_

_The weather witch hesitated. “Are you sure?”_

_Rogue gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m sure. We won’t be long, I promise. You go; you’ve stayed down here long enough.”_

_Ororo nodded in agreement. “I’ll be waiting right above,” she said, and began to levitate._

_Tattoo stared at her with widened eyes. “Fuck.me!”_

_Rogue smirked. “I know.”_

_“So that’s her power, huh? Flying?” Tattoo admired._

_Rogue laughed. “That’s barely a tenth of what she can do,” she hinted, and Tattoo’s eyebrows shot up._

_“Anyway,” Rogue brought her attention back. “Tattoo, before we go up, I need to make something clear.”_

_“What’s that?” she asked._

_Rogue tried to come up with the right words. “Like Storm said, Charles Xavier’s school is not just a place where kids are able to finish school; for most, that place is_ home _– a haven where they feel safe and protected. The X Men’s primary goal is to keep it that way.”_

_“Yeah, ok, I get that,” Tattoo said impatiently. “Why are you telling me that for?”_

_Rogue sighed. There was no easy way to say this._

_“The Professor is a very powerful telepath. Everytime a mutant comes to seek refuge at the school, he has a psychic scan on them to make sure the person he’s letting in won’t be a hazard to the rest. He’s going to do the same with every single Morlock we’re bringing in; and he’s going to do the same with you.”_

_Tattoo gulped, and looked at Rogue warily. She began to realize what this talk was about._

_“From the way you’re staring at me, I understand that you see the point I’m trying to make.”_

_Tattoo’s head dropped. “Yeah,” she muttered._

_Rogue stepped closer and rested a friendly hand on her bony shoulder. The girl’s shivering and sweating had returned, and not because of the possibility to not be accepted at the Mansion._

_“Tattoo,” she said like she was talking to a frightened kid. “You heard me say to Kitty that many of the X Men have known the hard side of life. That wasn’t a lie. There are plenty of us with a shady past and several mistakes on our bill. When it comes to the Professor, everything can be forgiven and a second chance can be offered, as long as you’re willing to give this lifestyle up and start over._

_So; what do you say? Are you going to make the effort?” Rogue asked expectantly._

_Tattoo looked at her with a tired, apologetic stare. “I didn’t want to end up like this. I never thought I’d be hooked. I was just trying to ease the pain, you know? Forget for a while how fucked up my life is.”_

_“I know, sugar; that’s what we all think at first. Then the downhill comes and you roll so fast you can’t stop yourself, no matter how bad you want to,” Rogue said._

_Tattoo frowned at her words. “_ We _?”_

_Rogue snorted bitterly. “Up there on the alley, when I gave you that coke; didn’t you wonder how I knew? How I realized you were suffering from withdrawal symptoms and not from an ugly cold?”_

_The green-haired mutant gawked at her, and Rogue’s smile became wider._

_“Like recognizes like, sugar. A junky can always tell another junky; even if it’s a former one.”_

_Tattoo was shocked. “_ You _were hooked?”_

_Rogue quirked an eyebrow. “Why so surprised? You think you’re the only one who tried to numb the pain instead of dealing with it? I already told you, there are plenty among us with a stained past.”_

_Tattoo was trying to come around this, while Rogue went to learn more. “I heard you say to Masque earlier that you were going for a drugstore. What do you use?”_

_She shrugged. “Anything I can get my hands on; codeine, methadone…”_

_“Oh, sugar,” Rogue shook her head condescendingly. “You should’ve been a bit pickier. Mix and match is never good – not with dope anyway,” she offered._

_Tattoo eyed her. “What was your gig?”_

_Rogue made a face. “Tranquilizers and painkillers at first. When they didn’t do me any more, I switched to ketamine – which I didn’t mind ‘spicing up’ from times to times by creating very explosive cocktails. That’s how I found out you better stay true to one substance at a time. Well, actually you must never try any of this shit, but you know what I mean,” she tried to joke._

_Tattoo let out a laugh that died after a second. “I don’t wanna use, I swear. I don’t wanna be like this. I just don’t know how to get out anymore.”_

_Rogue held both of her shoulders with conviction. “I’ll help you; I’ll do everything to make sure you get clean and_ stay _clean. We have an excellent doctor who helped me when I was going through detox. He’ll do the same for you. And I’ll be there by your side in every step.”_

_Tattoo jerked her head up and down in fret excitement._

_“The hardest thing to do when you wanna get out is to have a motive strong enough to keep you going at your hardest times. You think you can find that?” Rogue asked._

_Tattoo’s eyes shut. “I was 15 when my powers manifested. I was at the front steps of my parents’ house, making out with my boyfriend. When he pulled back, he was staring at me terrified. I didn’t understand what was going on, until I saw my reflection on the window of a car that was parked next to us. Tattoos had sprung out all over my face and exposed skin. He freaked; he started screaming, my father came out and saw me. The look in his eyes when he realized I was a mutant…” she whispered in pain._

_“After that I was kicked out; lived in the streets for a year. But things were too hard, I couldn’t pull through._

_One night two years ago, I was curled up next to a trashcan tryin’ to warm myself, when I saw Masque and some Tunnelers coming out of the sewers. At first they tried to attack me, but when they realized what I can do, they offered me a place in the Morlocks. I figured ‘how bad it can be? At least I’ll be with people like me’. You can guess the rest…”_

_Rogue shook her head pitifully. “They treated you like an outsider. And you thought that if you helped the Tunnelers, they would eventually accept you. When they didn’t, you tried to do to your mind what Masque couldn’t do to your face.”_

_“Pretty much,” she admitted in defeat._

_Rogue was watching her intently. That girl was strong; and she sounded sincere when she said she wanted a way out._

_At that moment, an idea crossed her mind. She was going to hell for what she was about to offer, but she was already heading down there anyway; she might as well have something good come out of it. For both Tattoo_ and _the mutant kind._

_“What if I tell you I have something to keep you going? Something worth fighting for?”_

_Tattoo’s eyes scorched with conviction. “I’d say lead the way.”_

_Rogue smiled as she patted her on the back. “Come on; let’s get you out of here,” she gestured with her head and headed to the ladder, but paused before she began to climb. “By the way; if you don’t wanna keep that hairdo and those tattoos you don’t have to anymore. No one will judge you for the way you look at the school.”_

_Tattoo nodded. “Good. To be honest, I like my hair; and my tattoos. Just not that way.”_

_“Then feel free to change them if you want to,” Rogue recommended, and watched in astonishment as Tattoo vanished the blocky patterns from her face and delicate, faint designs appeared at the side of her beautiful green eye._

_Rogue smiled. “Lovely.” A shy grin stretched Tattoo’s lips._

_“Oh, and before I forget,” Rogue continued, “That’s a good name you picked; it suits you.”_

_“Thanks; you too,” Tattoo murmured, moving closer to the ladder._

_“Did you tell your real name to anyone after your manifestation?” Rogue was curious._

_“No,” she said the word with conviction. “The name my parents gave me was left back at my house with my old life. I don’t belong there anymore and that name doesn’t fit.”_

_Rogue chuckled, and Tattoo’s brows knitted together. “What’s with the whicker?”_

_“You just remind me of someone way too much, that’s all.”_

_“Who?” Tattoo challenged._

_“Me.” Rogue motioned to her to start climbing._

_Tattoo waved at her to go first. Rogue grabbed the ladder, but she peered behind her shoulder when she heard Tattoo’s voice._

_“Did you tell your real name to anyone after you manifested?” she asked._

_“This_ is _my real name,” Rogue pointed out._

 _“Ok, fine; did you tell your_ old _name to anyone after you manifested?” she insisted._

_Rogue heard her inner voice screaming to Tattoo to shut up, but she stayed silent and kept climbing. After a while Tattoo followed. When they were about to reach the top, Tattoo – not expecting to get an answer anymore – heard Rogue’s whispering words;_

_“Just one.”_

_~~~~~~_

Logan was leaning against the office, arms and legs both crossed, contemplating everything he’d just heard. Hank, Storm, Avalanche and Kurt were watching him in silence.

He scrubbed his face jaded. All this was way too much to keep down.

“So…” he mused out loud. “That’s how you met the Morlocks.”

“Yes,” Storm responded laconically.

“And the asshole that was disfiguring people, did he comply with the new rules?” Logan rumbled.

“Sadly, no,” Ororo sighed. “Rogue was right. After a few months we had new cases of people being attacked and getting disfigured – both among the Morlocks and the humans.”

“Humph; _dick_ ,” Logan growled. “How you fixed it?”

“He disappeared after Marrow informed me that she couldn’t contain him. Rogue went to track him down with Tattoo. It was the child’s first mission,” the weather witch muttered. “And her first draw of blood.”

Logan whistled in awe. “Whoa. Well; the asshole had it coming. And the kid had some payback I guess,” said mostly to himself.

He pondered for a second. “And that bitch who was their leader – Callisto – is stayin’ here now?”

Storm merely nodded.

He shook his head, irritated by the outcome. “She fucks up every human-looking mutant who’s seeking refuge in her group, then bails them to join Magneto, she and her assholes try to kill us at Alcatraz, and she’s ‘punished’ for all that by living in the luxury Charles’ wallet provides her,” Logan snarled. “Talk about getting what you deserve…”

“Oh, she got what she deserved alright,” Hank chortled, and Storm’s discreet laugh followed. Avalanche grinned smugly, and Kurt tried to hide the smile that was peeking from the corner of his lips.

Logan was watching them confused. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Let’s just say that the Danger Room session she had with Rogue when she first came here is one she’s going to remember for a long time,” Ororo hinted with a wicked smirk.

Logan raised an eyebrow and snickered in content. “That so?”

“Like you, she felt that Callisto should have some taste of her own medicine. I’m sure that after the ‘make-over’ Rogue has given her, she had much to regret about. Shame you missed it; it was quite the spectacle,” the weather witch taunted before she and the rest burst in laughs.

After they came down from it, Logan recalled their original conversation.

“That was an interesting story and all, but I still don’t get why you guys think this is about the Morlocks and not the Brotherhood.”

“Erik and his Brotherhood had been staying here for almost a year, Logan,” Hank answered. “If someone was looking for them we would have already been aware.”

“Besides, after the Alcatraz battle, the majority of the Brotherhood was apprehended,” Avalanche added. “The few that escaped were monitored closely by secret agencies that were waiting for them to lead them to more radical human-hating groups among the mutants. During that time Pyro, who was the leader of the remaining Brotherhood members, was arrested and brought in for interrogation. If Trask was looking for one of them, he would’ve found them easily. So that narrows it down to the Morlocks.”

“I see,” Logan murmured.

His mind went back to Rogue and her connection with the woman he’d seen at the Professor’s office. “And this girl, Tattoo, she’s now on Rogue’s team you told me about, right?”

“Yeah,” Avalanche responded.

Logan jerked his head to him with a look of suspicion.

“What about _you_? You’re in her team too, aren’t ya? Why weren’t you there?”

“The time Rogue met Tattoo, I hadn’t been recruited. I wasn’t even here. Tattoo was technically the first member of the Untouchables that was brought to the Mansion – although the team hadn’t been formed yet; it didn’t even exist as an idea. That came later,” Avalanche explained.

Logan didn’t like the answers he was getting. They were terse and typical, as if they’d been rehearsed. Half info, half truths. Trimmed responses to satisfy the question, but nothing more. It was starting to get on his nerves. 

He gripped the desk with both hands, and Ororo noticed his knuckles turning white. Not a good sign.

“Why this team was formed? Why she thought it necessary? And what does that team do that the others don’t, anyway?” he asked Avalanche.

The young man glanced at Storm, unsure of how much to give away, but Logan’s clipped voice made him snap his head back to him immediately.

“Don’t look at her!” Logan barked. “Just answer the damn question! And make sure you give me more than just a resume, got it?”

Avalanche’s jaw clenched. Invaluable or not, this guy was starting to piss him off.

“Look, I get that the X Men consider you a great hero and all, and from what I’ve heard the shit you’ve been through are over the top, but you don’t get to talk to me like that, or order me around like I’m your bitch!” he said through gritted teeth.

Logan gave him a smug once-over and rose slowly, putting his hands pompously in his pockets. “Right; you’re someone else’s bitch already after all. And from what I’ve seen so far, you _enjoy_ being her lapdog; aren’t ya, _bub_?” he provoked him, trying to fish anything that would let him know the nature of this guy’s relationship with Rogue.

Avalanche had already taken an aggressive step towards Logan before he was stopped by Storm, who stood in front of him with her palms up to halt him. Kurt wasn’t sure how to react so he remained in place, while Hank strode to Logan with a stretched hand towards him.

“Logan! Avalanche is a prominent member of the Untouchables, and has been loyal to Rogue and the X Men for as long as we’ve known him. He’s done much to protect her and help her carry through every mission. Disrespect is not something he deserves! Please, my friend; ask your questions if you wish, but ask them calmly.”

“You know what, Blue, I’m sick and fuckin’ tired of this half-talk bullshit!” he growled. Everytime I ask something about Rogue and her whereabouts you all like ‘I can’t talk about this’, ‘it’s not my place to say’. Fuck that! Tell me what the fuck is goin’ on here! Who the fuck are the Untouchables?”

“Logan, for Goddess’ sake, control your temper!” Storm reprimanded him. “I have already explained the situation to you. I though you understood, but it seems I was wrong! You can’t threat every single person you think it carries the answers you demand! Have some patience. Avalanche is Rogue’s second and right hand. Ask him _respectfully_ what you wish to know and I promise you for every gap you find in his responses, I’ll fill it; is that good enough for you?” Ororo offered angrily.

Logan was slowly cooling off, but Avalanche was still seething. “I’m not giving anything to this assho-”

“ _Avalanche!_ ” the weather witch chastised. “Don’t make me give the same speech twice,” she warned with a low, edgy voice.

Avalanche sucked in a quick breath, his jaw clenched. After a few moments the two men settled down and thanks to an encouraging nod from Storm to Rogue’s right hand, Logan got his answers.

“The Untouchables was not a fight unit Professor Xavier was planning to establish,” Avalanche began. “After his return, he had to face that anti-mutant branches were sprouting inside the U.S. government, financing new labs and underground bases to be used as concentration camps in effort to discover new ways of restricting the mutant population numbers. After that, he decided it was time to take drastic measures. Several mutant-hating groups that took the opportunity to rise weren’t well organized, nor had that much human force, but they were quite active. Mutants were attacked randomly on the streets, sometimes beaten to death; families and individuals were taken by force or murdered inside their own houses – even in front of their children; Human Majority in cooperation with Friends of Humanity and the discreet support of senators, were slowly turning certain areas into mutant ghettos in an attempt to confine us.

The last drop that did it was the attack at Xavier orphanage; several kids died after a bomb had been installed in one of the school buses that were transporting the children back to the orphanage from school.”

Logan nodded impatiently. “I’d heard some of those things when I was away – though I found out long after they’d happened. But that doesn’t explain how and why this squad of yours was made, or how Rogue ended up leading you.”

“That’s because the Untouchables were created much later and by a different motive. I’m trying to walk you through this; there’s a reason I’m telling you these stuff,” Avalanche grumbled.

Logan frowned. “Where are you getting with this?”

“After the attack at the school bus, the Professor concluded that the way the X Men operated in the past was inadequate. The political climate was leaning towards more radical solutions about the ‘mutant issue’; mild diplomacy and moderate use of force weren’t enough anymore. Given the rising need for a more ‘aggressive’ approach, he decided to establish a task force among the X Men that would take up the hardest, most dangerous missions, using a more…militant way to carry them out and send a message to everyone who was breeding the anti-mutant sentiment. That team was called X Force.”

Logan was listening with intent, the revelation of how much things had changed dawning up on him once again. If the benevolent man he’d met years ago was losing his faith in the results his peaceful approach could bring, things were much worse than he thought.

His neck stretched as he flicked his eyes back to Avalanche. “So he created his own extermination squad,” he deduced.

“Yes and no. The X Force was formed as an answer to all the violent acts against mutants. Like I said, the team’s original task was to use a more invasive way to deal with the rising terrorist tactics implemented on our people. After an extended amount of time, the X Force’s role switched from exclusively extracting mutants from labs and eradicating hate groups, to mostly being a supportive team during missions with high risk levels.

The original X Force was consisted by five X Men, Rogue being originally one of them.”

At this point, Avalanche hesitated for a second, trying to find a way to give as much info as he could without telling too much about Rogue’s past.

“During an extended mission she had to take up alone, she bumped into some…‘complications’ that snared her for months before she was able to complete it. That mission turned out to be life-changing.”

“In what way? What happened to her in that mission?” Logan demanded.

Avalanche tensed, choosing to ignore the questions.

“After she returned, she practically forced the Professor to let her create another team like the X Force – a team consisted by mutants willing to use any means necessary to manage fatal strikes to humans and operations that are considered vital to the anti-mutant wave.”

Logan wasn’t willing to let go. “I suppose you’re not gonna tell me what was it that had such a drastic impact on her to ask for something like that, are ya?”

“You’re a little slow at first, but you learn to catch up real quickly after a while,” Avalanche scoffed, and saw Wolverine’s canines flash as the feral man gave him a warning snarl.

Avalanche huffed in chagrin. “Look man, I’m giving you information that’s considered highly confidential even among the X Men – and we’re not even in the War Room. Someone could be passing outside that door and pick something they shouldn’t have. Cut me some fuckin’ slack here!”

Logan let a narky growl. He wanted to hiss at the kid for fucking around with him, but he was making a good point.

He felt the gnawing need to pull out a cigar and down some smoke, but he choked it; he knew Storm wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. This was _her_ office after all.

“Go on,” Logan prodded.

Avalanche rolled his shoulders to ease the tension.

“Rogue wanted this team to become the X Men’s last frontier, carrying the missions that their execution would take extreme measures. Assassinations – which are presented to the public as accidents or death by natural causes whenever deemed necessary; infiltration and decimation of high level security locations where mutants are held and subjected to experiments – among other things; forming and leading operations with simultaneous hits against multiple targets; espionage; bombing top secret bases and buildings that belong to anti-mutant organizations and corporations as a warning or retaliation. These are the basic tasks of the Untouchables.”

Logan stared at Avalanche like he’d grown a second head. He then looked at Storm and Hank, thinking that maybe the guy was going over the top here. But their expressions told him Avalanche wasn’t trying to oversell.

“I think I need a drink,” he muttered to himself, while his hand scrubbed the back of his neck.

Ororo approached him with a compassionate expression. “Logan, I understand that all this sound too much-” she began to say, but Logan’s restive shake of his head stopped her halfway.

“No, ‘Ro, you can’t be serious about this. You can’t expect me to believe the kid would actually _do_ all those things – and even more, give the idea and _lead_ a team that does all that shit!” he lashed out.

“She’s not a kid, Logan,” Storm clarified once more with a patient tone. “Your mind is still overfond by the image of the homeless girl you’d picked up years ago. She’s _not_ who she was back then.”

Logan rubbed his forehead roughly, trying to get behind this; but he couldn’t. This was all just too much, and the fact that Rogue hadn’t given him a chance to speak with her, to get to know her from scratch, was making this pill even harder to swallow.

“Ok, fine,” he retreated crestfallen. “Fine. So, Rogue…” he paused. Suddenly, it just hit him; _Rogue_. The name she’d been going by all those years made now more sense than ever.

When he’d first met her, he thought that name was the desperate attempt of a frightened kid to boost some her broken ego; after he’d found out what she could do, it made more sense to him why she’d choose this title for herself. But not once for as long as he’d known her, he would ever imagine this name would hint something about her as a person; as a _woman_.

Coming back from his thoughts and seeing everyone’s puzzled stare, Logan cleared his throat awkwardly and completed his sentence. “So, she recruited all of you?” he asked Avalanche.

“Yeah,” he spouted.

“From where?”

“Labs, mostly,” Avalanche said unwillingly, and saw a spark of surprise from the feral man. He wasn’t going to let this Q&A go there. He was wrapping it up now. “Except Domino – another Untouchable; they’d known each other from before. And Tattoo, that you’ve already heard how she was found.”

“Huh,” Logan grunted, and noticed Avalanche’s haste to steer away as far as possible from that subject. He might’ve hoped that the Wolverine would let that go, but clearly the kid hadn’t been told what a persistent bastard he was.

He narrowed his eyes at the younger man again. “So she made that team out of mostly lab survivors, huh? No wonder why you guys are so willing to paint your hands red,” he pushed.

“Takes one to know one,” Avalanche retaliated.

“Avalanche, please,” Ororo requested, as Hank and Kurt exchanged a wary look.

“It’s ok, ‘Ro,” Logan cut her without taking his eyes from the man before him. “Kid is right; killers can tell each other even among a flock of innocents.” He gave Avalanche a challenging gleam. “So; you’ve been a lab rat yourself huh?”

“Logan, that’s enough!” Hank exclaimed, and walked to stand between the two men.

“Don’t worry, doc, I can handle this,” Avalanche gestured to the blue feral, and walked slowly but decisively towards Logan, who got up to face him. Avalanche looked him straight in the eye, and Logan could smell his anger boiling under the calm, controlled demeanor.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Avalanche whispered, yet somehow his voice echoed around the room. “But one thing my time in the labs taught me was not to let others fuck with my mentality. Keep messing with my buttons all you want, _Wolverine_ ; you’re not getting more.”

Logan gritted his teeth, but hid it by giving him a nasty grin. He had to hand it to the kid; he’d sniffed his bluff and had called him out. Not many had the balls to do that. For that alone he was willing to give him a temporary pass. Still, he had one more thing to ask.

“Are we done here?” Avalanche said to Storm abruptly. “There are things that I need to take care of and I ain’t got all day.”

“One more thing;” Logan said in a commanding voice, and Avalanche’s eyes were back to him again. “ _Untouchables_ ; why that name?”

“Tattoo’s idea,” Avalanche responded plainly. “Given this team was Rogue’s creation, she thought the name should refer to her. ‘Untouchables’ has a dual meaning; it calls to Rogue’s mutation and also to the team members’ superior skills. Plus none of us is ever going back to the shitholes we came from. So everytime we go on a mission we make sure these fucks will never get their hands on us again; _no matter what_.”

The revelation had Kurt, Hank and Storm stunned silent. None of them was aware that the name of Rogue’s team went as deep as implying their will to maintain their freedom at any cost.

Logan was sitting again, eyeing the young mutant in front of him with something that seemed a hell of a lot like respect. He was rarely impressed by others, but the boy had a heart he’d seen in few. He could tell why he was second-in-command. He offered him an appreciative smirk he usually reserved for people he knew well; Rogue had made a good choice with this one.

His thought flew at the green haired girl again that Rogue had picked from the sewers; she sounded like a smart kid; loyal. Actually, every member of her team seemed to be quite devoted to her. She’d formed a group of people that were willing to follow her to death, if necessary. To inspire such allegiance was extremely difficult – especially at such young age; and yet, Rogue had done it. He felt his heartbeat speeding up. How much more was he going to discover?

Suddenly, he recalled something Storm had told him about Rogue’s first meeting with the girl.

“’Ro,” he said and looked at the white-haired woman, who was now standing next to Hank. “There’s something you said before that I don’t get.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“You said that when Rogue saw Tattoo for the first time she knew the kid was an addict,” he reminisced, and the weather witch nodded in affirmation.

“How was she so sure she was hooked and not sick? How did she read the signs so well?”

Storm tried to stifle a bemused reaction before it slipped, but Logan was able to notice her usually controlled poise going stiff. Storm had mentioned Rogue’s swift estimation of Tattoo’s condition, but she had deliberately neglected to inform him about Rogue’s personal journey into the world of substances. 

Logan’s nose felt the discreet feminine scent of Ororo becoming thicker and tangier from the uneasiness she was trying to disguise; his acute hearing caught the shift in the drum of her heartbeat.

He said nothing, waiting to see if she’d continue to pretend she wasn’t aware he’d caught her off guard with his question.

Ororo opened her mouth slightly, struggling to come up with an answer that wouldn’t bring her on the verge of deciding which of her two friends she’d clash with, until Avalanche pulled her out of that difficult choice.

“Storm,” he jumped in, and she came out of her abstraction quickly.

“I forgot to tell you that Rogue wanted me to ask you to inform Sarah that she’s alright and that she’ll be back soon. Rogue didn’t get the chance to see her before she left, and knows that the girl is gonna be worried. Plus, you need to go and inform the Professor and Erik about this.”

“You’re right, Avalanche. Thank you,” she said relieved and fully aware that the young man had kept this information until now for a reason. Avalanche’s military training and experience had turned him into a thorough individual whose actions were always the result of a meticulous calculation.

“Not so fast, ‘Ro,” Logan growled, and Storm turned to him warily. “I’m still waiting for an answer,” he warned.

Before she was able to say anything, Hank completed Avalanche’s escape route for the weather goddess by giving her the necessary outing.

“Go ahead, Ororo,” he insisted. “I’ll make sure Logan will receive the information he seeks.”

Hank’s assurance earned him a grateful smile. She offered a thankful glance to Avalanche who gave her a curt bow, before muttering an “I’ll see you all later” while exiting her office.

Kurt seized the opportunity to follow Storm’s lead. “I should be going as well,” he said and landed on the carpeted floor, extending a hand to Logan.

“It was good to see you, _mein freund_ ,” he told him, and Logan rewarded him with a friendly smirk.

“Me too, elf” he responded, and Kurt’s brows shot up at the nickname.

Logan shrugged it off, and gave him a swift, heavy pat on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it bub, I do that with everyone,” he half joked.

“Isn’t that a fact of life?” Hank jested, reminiscing his original nickname; _furball_.

Logan snickered, whereas Kurt laughed shyly and bamfed away.

“You should go as well, Avalanche,” Hank incited him. “As you aforementioned, there are urgent matters you need to attend to.”

Avalanche eyed Hank cautiously. The way the blue feral had implied he was going to tell Wolverine what he wanted to know, didn’t sit well with him. Rogue trusted the man and cared for him deeply. He didn’t want her to be disappointed in case she discovered someone she saw as a friend had gone and talked behind her back.

“Hank, I don’t think-”

“ _Son_ ; I’m not one to be underestimated,” he cautioned with a heavy voice.

Avalanche hushed. After a weary glance at Logan, he stepped down with a pucker. The Beast never let room for disregard.

“Good point, doc. See you in the War Room in few hours,” he muttered to both, and strode away.

Hank went to close the door and Logan rearranged himself by turning slightly on his left side to rest his thigh on the desk. His right leg stretched to steady his boot on the floor and placed his hands on his jeans. When Hank turned to him, his eyes had a feral spark of appreciation.

“I’m impressed, Blue. I’ve never seen you been so combative in an office before; and you’re not even wearing your suit,” he teased. 

Hank roared a laugh and twined his hands behind his back as he approached. “Well, you know how these young men can be. They are so hot-blooded, they assume serenity implies weakness. I’m forced to display my fangs every once in a while just to remind them not to be fooled by appearances.”

Logan grunted in agreement and jerked his head at the door. “He seems protective of her.”

“He truly is,” the blue feral concurred. “He’s the most dedicated person I’ve seen – always making sure Rogue won’t make a decision that might come with a high cost, or jeopardize her safety.”

“He cares that much about her, huh?” Logan asked irritated.

“It’s not what you think, my friend,” Hank explained. “Their relationship is quite intricate and complex, but goes beyond romantic feelings. Life brought them together under conditions that were excruciatingly challenging; for both of them.”

Logan tensed. “How so?”

Hank avoided his sharp stare. “Let me put it this way; when they first met, the word ‘animosity’ wasn’t enough to describe what was taking place between them.”

Logan waited in silence. “Is that all?” he forced.

“I’m sorry, Logan, but it is for Rogue and Avalanche to decide whether they’re going to share this part of their past or not,” Hank clarified.

Logan inhaled deeply in an effort to calm his nerves. “If you’re not gonna tell me anything about her, why the hell you wanted us to be alone here?” he snapped.

Hank gave him a look of sorrow. “Because the question you asked Ororo is about a moment of Rogue’s life that partially involves me as well,” he revealed.

At this, Logan’s hair went up, but kept quiet, giving Hank the opportunity to justify his words.

“I feel that if I confess this to someone it will be easier to forgive myself, as Rogue had asked me to do several times.”

“ _Forgive you?_ Forgive you for what? What’s goin’ on, Hank? What happened to her?” Logan pressured.

Hank watched him carefully. “What made you ask about Rogue’s knowledge for Tattoo’s condition?”

Logan shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but a swell of panic was already rising within him. “I don’t know, I guess it seemed strange to me that she guessed it so easily. Why?” he spoke quickly.

“Because I believe your instinct told you right away how she knew about Tattoo’s addiction; you just fear to admit it to yourself,” Hank reckoned.

Logan refused to believe it. “Rogue? She…” he just couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“There was a time she was an addict herself,” Hank completed his sentence. 

Logan’s eyes pinned on the floor. His mouth was sucking in soundless gulps of air. Hank expected him to lash out, vent his anger somehow; but he didn’t. Instead, in the blue feral’s surprise, he stood up and walked heavily towards the window. He put his hands in his pockets and Hank saw his shoulders hunch under an invisible weight. He seemed exhausted, downbeaten and Hank smelled the same guilt and regret he felt covering Logan’s scent.

His eyes were in the far distance of Xavier’s property, when Hank heard one muttered word. “Why?”

The blue feral sighed and approached him. “There’s as much a person can endure, my friend. You are aware of this. She was very young and was carrying a responsibility that was taking too much from her. She hadn’t even realized she was out of control, until she was too immersed.”

Logan said nothing. He only asked another question. “How it was your fault?”

“I didn’t see it either. She’d perfected this mask of indifference I’ve seen her put on several times so well, I didn’t detect it soon enough,” Hank lamented.

Logan looked up again. He scrubbed his face and his hand stayed on his mouth, as if he was keeping himself from roaring.

“When did you realize it?” he choked.

Hank muttered in remorse. “When it was too late.”

Logan jerked his head at him. “Don’t play riddles with me, Beast! Not now! Not after everything you told me!” he hissed.

“I can’t tell you anything more, Logan,” Hank apologized. “At that time, Rogue was in a very critical position, working on missions with extremely high risk of compromise. There are things no one must ever know. You asked how she knew Tattoo was an addict; you have the answer. Please don’t ask for more details. You were an X Man once; you know how vital secrecy is in such cases.”

Logan’s eyes were on him, a mix of anger, pain, questions and accusation. Hank saw it and spoke first.

“I understand if it is hard for you to see me as a friend and a teammate right now,” he said bitterly.

“That’s not it,” Logan growled. “I don’t know what the hell happened back then, but I know you’re not the kinda man to let someone suffer. And I can smell the truth. You _really_ didn’t know. I just…I can’t fuckin’ _believe_ all this!” he erupted. “How so many fuckin’ things happened to her in such short time? It’s only been what? 3-4 years? And from all the things you guys _don’t_ wanna tell me, she went through shit that can fill two fuckin’ lives! _How did that happen?_ ” he yelled.

“Time is relevant, my friend,” Hank told him calmly. “One can spend years without having a single alteration in their everyday routine, and then something raptures that changes everything within a blink of an eye forever. It’s not the amount of time that shape us, but our experiences. Rogue had a fair amount of those; and most were painful.”

Logan ran a hand through his hair and began to pace around the room. He had to release the claws, sink them into something – _someone_ – to feel the sting of physical pain take a little away from the ache he felt. Instead, he settled with a half smoked stub he’d stashed in his shirt’s right pocket. He pulled it out and began to chew it manically.

Hank saw the frenzy state Logan was in. He sensed the animal emerging, and worried he’d made a mistake to disclosure what he had.

“Logan; are you alright?” he asked carefully.

He turned around steeply, looking at him with eyes that flared a trace of gold. He pulled out the cigar and let a snarl lift his upper lip. “Am I _alright_? _No, I’m not fuckin’ alright!_ Would you be alright after all this shit?”

Hank raised his hands in concession. Logan felt a twinge of guilt clutching his insides. He could tell the doc was plagued by his inability to read the situation correctly immediately. He didn’t have to make it worse.

He closed his eyes in an effort to regain his composure. Hank saw his chest heaving from the excessive effort, and his keen sight caught his knuckles throbbing from the way his rage coursed through the metal of his claws. Eventually, his demeanor calmed and his eyes flew open.

“ _Fuck_. I shouldn’t break out on you, Blue,” he muttered tiredly.

“It’s alright, my friend,” Hank said in a reconciling tone. “There’s no blame from my side. You return after four years to find an entirely different situation than the one you left. And an entirely different person than the one the young girl you care about was. It’s only natural to react in such manner.”

Logan walked to him. “At least tell me this; is she alright now?”

“As well as someone in her situation can be,” Hank offered. 

Logan clenched his fists. “When is she comin’ back?” he demanded.

“What for?” Hank frowned puzzled.

“Cause she and I are gonna have a talk. ‘Ro gives me half words, you and this Avalanche guy only let me on the basics, and everyone avoids giving me the fuckin’ truth by sayin’ that if I wanna know what happened to her I need to ask her myself. Fine; if that’s what it takes, I’m going for it.”

“Logan, we’re in the middle of an operation. When Rogue comes, she’ll probably head straight to the War Room where we’ll be informed about the mission. I absolutely support your decision to have a conversation with her, but right timing is of essence. Please take my advice and speak with her _after_ the end of the mission,” Hank pleaded.

“Fair enough,” Logan said stiffly. “I’ll wait until the mission’s over, but after that I’m getting to the bottom of this. One way or another,” he warned, and put his cigar back in his mouth as he stomped out of Storm’s office.

Hank waited until Logan was far enough to enunciate his wishful thinking.

“I sincerely hope so, my friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Tsuba = guard between handle and blade  
> *Wakizashi = short sword (katana)
> 
> Up next: War Room meeting


	10. Convergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What i am i do not show, and what i seem to be i'm not" (Unknown)
> 
> Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to Englishmajor226 for having my back in every chapter. 
> 
> Soundtrack list  
> •Evil ways – Blues Saraceno  
> •Wasting my hate – Metallica  
> •Cryin’ like a bitch – Godsmack  
> •Not strong enough – Apocalyptica  
> •No easy way – Digital daggers  
> •Bad attitude – Luke Richards  
> •No leaf clover – Metallica (with the San Francisco Symphonic Orchestra)

Yukio quickened her pace to catch up with Logan, who was striding through the halls. The Professor had called them both to inform them about the upcoming War Room meeting. Clearly there was something that made the old man uneasy and the sooner they were over and done with it, the better.

His thoughts were interrupted by Yukio’s voice. “Logan!”

He halted and turned his head sharply.

She noticed the agitated look on his face. “What does the Professor want us for?”

“Didn’t he tell you?”

“He did. I just don’t understand why you’re so nervous about it,” she explained. “You’d done this many times when you were an X Man, hadn’t you?”

“It’s not the War Room briefing I’m worried about,” he admitted.

“Then, what is it?”

Logan sighed heavily and headed towards Charles’ office without another word. Yukio followed quietly. She knew _Kuzuri_ well enough to know it was better to keep her mouth shut; now wasn’t the right time.

He wasn’t planning on knocking the door. Charles was aware they were close and Logan was expecting at any minute to hear his voice asking them to come in.

Instead he felt it in his mind, preceded by a brief laugh.

 _I must acknowledge, becoming so predictable is not something I take pleasure in, yet I must confess that it does have its advantages,_ he stated in a mockery tone. _Just come in my friend,_ he finished, as Logan let out a frustrating growl. Charles knew how much he hated sneaking into his mind, but like the telepath said, it was a plus and he couldn’t deny that either.

He opened the door and barged in with Yukio right behind him. She closed the door calmly and greeted the people in the room, while Logan was checking them.

Erik and Hank were sitting at the couch across Charles. They surmised the Professor’s unspoken invitation since it was the only reasonable explanation for the lack of discreet on Logan’s behalf. The feral man was not one of using etiquette, but he appreciated the Professor enough to not act disrespectfully.

Logan’s eyes fell on the fourth person in the room. Actually, she’d been the first one to catch his attention – and not without a good reason.

She was a woman around her late 20’s or early 30’s; it was a bit hard to guess given her statuesque appearance. Long blond hair fell around her shoulders in loosen curls. An icy blue was peering back at him, and Logan didn’t miss the way her eyes were distinguished on her alabaster face; or how her full, pouty lips curled in a sly smirk when she caught him staring at her. She was dressed in white, her clothes exhibiting all the fine lines and curves of her body. She was a gorgeous woman without a doubt, but the cunning gleam in her eyes and the lack of warmth in her demeanor made the animal bare his canines in warning.

She was leaning against the Professor’s desk in a provoking pose, but stood straight when Charles spoke.

“Logan, Yukio, thank you for coming,” he motioned at the two empty chairs close to his desk. “I was hoping we could talk before the War Room meeting begins.”

Yukio went to sit, but Logan stood in place, sending brief glances to the blond. “What’s wrong?”

Hank and Erik watched him carefully. Realizing what was causing his wary behavior, the Professor turned his attention where Logan’s was.

“Ah, yes. Before we begin, allow me to introduce to both of you Emma Frost,” he said, and the focus went on the woman in white, who glided with a sensual sway of her hips towards them.

“I was beginning to worry you had forgotten your infamous manners, Charles,” Emma commented with a salacious voice, never taking her eyes from Logan.

“You’re right, Emma; my apologies. I’m afraid that my recent communication with Rogue has left me a bit disconcerted. The fact that you haven’t met with either of our recently arrived residents eluded me completely.”

At the sound of Rogue’s name, Logan looked at Charles, lines of tension creasing his eyes. “Rogue called? What did she say?”

Before the Professor was able to answer, Emma approached Logan and stood in front of him. “How about we introduce properly first?” she drawled, and reached out a hand graciously. “I’m Emma.”

Logan glanced at the delicate fingers stretching out to him and then back at the face of their owner. He didn’t like this woman. With all the white she was draped in and the pretentious politeness she was exhibiting, he could tell there was a lot of darkness within her. She appealed to his lower instincts, that was for sure; but he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. Plus, the way she was pretending Yukio wasn’t in the room was pissing him off.

He grabbed her hand tersely and gave it a firm squeeze before letting it as quickly he’d taken it.

“Logan,” he grunted. He jerked his head behind Emma. “That’s Yukio,” he said crassly, forcing Emma to acknowledge her presence.

Emma turned to Yukio, who was now standing, watching her with a mix of distrust and antipathy. The way the woman had greeted her – or better yet, _not_ greeted her – made her feel offended. Inadvertently, her mind rushed to the way Rogue had treated her when they’d first met. It was different as night and day, and Yukio could tell she and this Emma person weren’t going to get along.

Emma spared an arrogant once-over to the red-haired Asian. A Cheshire cat smile appeared on her lips at the vibes of hostility Yukio was emitting. “I’m sure she is,” she quipped, and turned her attention back to Logan again.

“So…the _mighty Wolverine_ is finally here,” she exclaimed, and let her eyes roam on him from head to toe. “Finally; I was starting to think you’re some kind of elusive legend only few have a chance to meet.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, his mouth twisted in a sneer.

“Yeah, well, this is it,” he growled. He wanted to ask more about Rogue, but Emma caught him again.

“Aren’t you impatient?” she mocked. “I thought you’d be interested to learn how I know about you.”

Logan snapped and let all the disdain he felt show openly.

“Look, lady, I don’t know what you’ve heard and honestly I don’t give a shit. You wanted to meet me, you got your wish granted, but that’s all you get. Don’t go as far as thinking that you _know_ me. Whoever it is that opened their goddamn mouth about me, whatever beans they spilled, you don’t have a fuckin’ _clue_ of who I am,” he snarled.

Emma was listening to his ranting with a grin that grew wider as he kept going. After he was done, her smile was fake as it was bright.

“She was right; you _do_ act like a pompous, self-entitled jerk when you first meet someone,” she threw the bait, and waited to see how long before he’d jump in to bite it.

Logan choked. He didn’t see that coming, and his reaction gave it away.

He quickly recovered and put on his macho act. 

“ _Who_ was right?” he gritted his teeth, though he had a good guess about the person the bitch was implying.

Emma raised a guile brow.

“I thought you said you don’t give a shit about what and how I know about you a minute ago.” She tilted her head with false innocence. “What changed your mind so quickly? Or should I ask _who_?”

“Emma!”

Her attention shifted by Charles’ interjection. He was quite accustomed to Emma’s mind games, but Logan wasn’t, and the way his jaw had tightened and his chest was rumbling told the Professor he wasn’t going to become inure to them any time soon.

“I believe that’s enough,” he chided her.

Logan glared at the Professor while he pointed with his thumb at Emma. “Who the hell is she again?”

Charles looked at him stoically. “Emma has been with us for over a year. She’s a telepath capable of extraordinary mental feats – among other skills she possesses.”

The moment the word “telepath” came up, Logan felt his hair and defenses go up. During his first days at the Mansion, he’d resented the idea of being around people who could roam into his thoughts whenever they felt like it. In time, he learned to partly shield himself from them, getting more comfortable around them. The fact that the Professor and Jean’s ethicality was solid enough to be respectful and keep their minds out of other people’s was definitely a big help. But this Emma chick didn’t seem to share the same ideology. She looked prone to break the moral rules Charles’ had founded and followed faithfully almost his entire life just for the sake of entertaining herself; and Logan didn’t like that.

“A telepath, huh?” his voice held a hint of contempt. “Just exactly what we needed, another mind meddler,” he grumbled.

“Why so sour about it?” Emma responded ironically. “From what I’ve heard you were once quite _fond_ of telepaths; one in particular if the rumors are true,” she pushed.

That last sideswipe did it.

Logan’ eyes flashed gold and his biceps flexed as his hands curled into fists. Catching his notion, Hank stepped in quickly.

“Emma!” her name was a sound between a stern voice and a scowl. “This isn’t the right time, nor the right place for regalement. And Logan is certainly _not_ the right person for such frolics,” he emphasized. _And may I remind you Rogue’s instructions to you about any transactions with Logan?_ he mentally prompted her.

Emma sent him an irritated stare, keeping their exchange away from the rest.

 _Don’t you mean her_ warnings _?_

Hank glowered at her frustrated.

_All the more reason to heed her demands and do as you were told._

Erik noticed the silent communication and seized the opportunity to interfere.

“If you two are done coaxing your adolescent tendencies,” he stated calmly to both Logan and Emma, “I’d really like to hear whatever information Charles has to share with us about Rogue’s investigation.” Erik turned to him, giving him the chance to end the disturbing quarrel Emma had initiated. The White Queen – as she was called by some – was as indispensable to them as very few selected ones among their ranks, yet if she wished to, she could be more than a handful.

Xavier nodded in appreciation and gestured at Yukio, Emma and Logan to sit down in order to begin.

“According to Rogue, the information she was given is accurate. The two of the three mutants that were recently captured are indeed former members of the Morlocks who later chose to integrate to your Brotherhood, Erik.”

“Do we know who they are?” Erik inquired.

“Yes,” Charles responded. “They come with the names Arclight and Spike. The third party seems to be member of a group similar to Morlocks, located to Chicago. He comes with the name Double Helix. They have all been stationed to the location we’ve been planning to assault.”

“Did Rogue find out if they want them for lab pets or something more?” Logan asked from his spot.

Charles looked at him and then addressed everyone. “I’m afraid it wasn’t possible for her to discover this; yet she still believes that the reason behind the urgent transportation of the three captives goes beyond the use of their mutations for experimentation.”

“Now that we’re certain about the validity of the information, shouldn’t we ask Callisto about this?” Hank suggested. “Perhaps she’s aware of the reasons Trask apprehended these mutants in particular and why it’s so imperative to be transferred promptly. They usually wait until they have collected a respectable amount of…‘merchandise’ in order to proceed with the conveyance.”

“Not before Rogue comes in,” Emma interjected, and all the eyes were back on her.

She crossed her legs provocatively and lied back on her chair. “You know she won’t accept you or Erik to have this conversation without her being present, Charles,” she pointed out.

“Yes, that is true,” he admitted. “But she did ask from me to proceed with the War Room meeting until she returned and have this conversation with Callisto afterwards. I called all of you here in advance, because I wanted you to be the first ones to know the most recent news about the mission and ask you to be present during the updated briefing.”

Logan crossed his arms and looked at Charles warily. “I get why you called everyone else, but why me and Yukio? We just got here, and from all the things I’ve heard so far, this mission is too important. Why allow two rookies in this?”

The Professor eyed him somberly. Ever since he’d met him that first day he’d barged in his physics class, barefoot and disheveled, that part of Logan that made him so skeptical about everything and everyone – even the ones he trusted – was still there. The fact that he chose to keep a physical distance everytime he was in a room merely solidified Charles’ theory.

He smiled reassuringly. “Logan you might have been absent for quite some time and this is Yukio’s first experience with the X Men, but I sincerely doubt any of us would consider either of you a novice. You’ve been in critical missions before and from what I understand, Yukio is also a skilled fighter. I asked both of you to be present because I believe that the sooner you’re acclimatized to the current situation, the faster you’ll be ready to play an active part in it. Unless you have certain reasons that make you wish to be excluded, I assumed it would be a good start for both of you to witness firsthand the way missions are now carried.”

Logan and Yukio peered at each other. She gave him a knowing look, making Logan realize that Charles was right. From everything he’d heard so far, there was no time to waste. They needed to move as quickly as possible and to do that, he and Yukio had to dive in deep waters in one plunge. Stepping in gradually was a luxury they couldn’t afford anymore.

He sighed solemnly. _Always the hard way._

“So what now?” he asked.

“As I aforementioned, Rogue asked me to proceed with the War Room meeting. She’s on her way to the Mansion, and she’ll be here soon enough to prepare and meet with us,” the Professor informed them.

“Also, Logan, Yukio,” he continued. “I intend to make good use of Rogue’s delay to introduce both of you to the other X Men and to some of the Brotherhood members who live here. I presumed it would be the ideal moment to make your return and addition to the team official. What do you say?”

Logan and Yukio looked at each other again, and Yukio spoke first.

“It would be an honor, Professor,” she said with a small bow.

Logan made a face. He never liked attention, and didn’t want a “welcome home” committee to spread a red carpet for him. He could see Charles’ good intentions behind it, but he had a bad feeling about this.

Still, the man was trying to make this as easy as possible, and Yukio had already consented – as he’d expected her to. As Japanese, and a samurai, denying such an invitation would be an immense disrespect she’d never dare to show – especially after the kindness and hospitality Charles had shown her.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Let’s get this ‘welcome party’ over and done with.”

The three men smirked, and Hank along with Erik stood up to leave, when Logan stopped the Professor while he was heading to his desk.

“Charles,” his voice was low, making the seemingly older man raise his head with a quizzical look on his face.

“Can you give me a moment before we head downstairs?”

“Of course,” the Professor said, and Logan nodded curtly as the room was quickly evacuated.

Emma brushed past him and whirled to give him a teasing look.

“I can’t wait for that meeting,” she imitated Logan’s crooked eyebrow, and with one last mischievous smile, she left the office.

Yukio, who was also on her way out, watched Emma strutting to the exit and looked at Logan bewildered.

“Kanojo no mondai wa nanidesu ka?” _What’s her problem?_

Logan kept glaring at Emma until she was gone. His voice was stuffed with indignation. 

“Wakaranai, kinishinai.” _Don’t know, don’t care._

He eyed Yukio, who rushed to leave the two men alone. After the door was shut, Logan turned to Charles outraged, arms crossed in front of him.

The Professor rested his elbows on his chair. “I suppose the reason you wanted me to stay behind is Emma?” he assumed.

“You’re the psychic; you tell me,” Logan stressed, worked up as he was.

Charles smiled condescendingly, which irritated Logan even more. “If there’s a joke here, I don’t seem to get it.”

The Professor made sure to tread carefully after the feral man’s remark. “My apologies, Logan; my intention was not to taunt you. It just seems that your time away from the Mansion has made me forget how hard it is for you to get acquainted with another.”

Logan’s brows almost disappeared in his hair. “Are you kidding me? This bitch was trying to amp me the moment I stepped my foot in here, and _I’m_ the one with the problem?” he snarled. “Why the hell she thinks she can talk to me like that? And why the fuck she acts like I’m her new chew toy?”

Charles beckoned in a “calm down” manner. “Logan, please. I understand your vexation with Emma’s behavior, but I would appreciate it if you tried to restrain your vocabulary. You’re not among people that enjoy this way of communication anymore.”

Logan huffed. He ran a hand through his hair that landed in his pocket. “Fine; but blaming me for not being good at making friends with all the assholes you stack up in here won’t make this talk any easier.”

“No one is blaming you for anything,” the Professor insisted. “I’m afraid my choice of words was poor. You are not wrong about Emma’s efforts to stir the waters. It’s just her way to keep others at a distance and simultaneously clarify that she’ll be the one to set the rules and boundaries. I’m afraid her adhesion to be in control at all times is too great.”

“Humph,” Logan grunted dismissively.

“Sounds familiar?” Charles hinted with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and Logan’s answer was a narky growl. He wasn’t in the mood for games.

“Where the hell did you pick her up from?” he demanded.

The Professor took a deep breath. “Actually, it was Rogue who picked Emma; not me. I merely gave my consent for her to stay here and become an asset.”

Logan gaped. “ _Her_ _too?_ Don’t tell me she’s on her team?” he doubted Rogue’s choice to have such a member in her group of most trusted people.

“No, Emma is not one of the Untouchables, to be honest. One might call her more of a…‘freelance’; an associate of a kind,” Charles tried to come up with the right definition. “She came here at the same time Avalanche did; from the same place as well.”

Logan’s gaze was ominous. “Lemme guess…lab?”

The Professor simply nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

“Christ, is there any of them who hasn’t been under the scalpels – or whatever fucked up method was used on them?” Logan vented.

“I’m afraid you misunderstood, Logan,” Charles interrupted his outburst. “Yes, Emma and Avalanche spent a certain amount of time in the labs; but not in the way you think.”

Logan was confused. “What do you mean? In what other way they-” the words died before he had the chance to let them out. He’d made a stint at the labs himself. The past three years he’d been wandering, more and more flashes that indicated what his past was hiding were telling him stories about that part of his life – especially at night. He knew in what ways a mutant could be useful to the humans. The damn bastards had upgraded their game, and now the methods to exploit mutants and their powers were in abundance.

 _Fuck_.

“They were used as weapons then?” Logan guessed.

Charles tried to be as honest as possible. “More like ‘assets’. Expedients that aided the ‘formulation’ the scientists were trying to achieve with each…‘subject’. After they arrived here and their part in the labs was revealed, we realized that being experimented on isn’t the worst thing that can happen to people like us.”

Logan shut his eyes and rubbed his face. He was pacing up and down now, muttering something incomprehensive.

The Professor watched his restlessness in silence. He hoped sharing this information wasn’t a mistake, but given how necessary he considered Wolverine’s addition to the team, it was probably the only way.

Logan halted and looked at Charles, who noticed the doubt on his face.

“You said that Avalanche and Blondie came here together from the same lab.” His gut was telling him there was more than what he was given – _again_.

“I did,” Charles confirmed, not sure what kind of point Logan was trying to make.

“There was an infiltration/extraction mission? Is that how Rogue got them?” Logan waited for an answer in hope that he was falsely triggered.

The Professor’s imperceptible flinch gave away that the question had caught him by surprise. He reacquired his composure the very next moment, but not before he’d given the feral man more than he intended.

Charles always marveled at the abilities Logan’s mutation provided him with. He was no telepath and his empathy wasn’t evolved as others’, but his feral side equipped him with instincts that helped him “see” things and details most wouldn’t.

He clasped his hands together and tried to answer in a diplomatic way: by not giving one.

“Logan, you are aware of the way the X Men operate. Missions such as the one you aforementioned are highly confidential, as well as the way they are executed.”

Logan gave him a harsh smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He walked towards Charles and leaned over him ominously.

“If you think you’re going to roll around the subject, then you’d clearly forgotten how persistent I can be,” he warned with a menacing voice.

The Professor leaned back on his chair. “I understand your frustration about Ororo’s and Hank’s reluctance to tell you what you wish to know, but Logan, allow me to make clear once and for all that I’m _not_ good at putting up with threats.”

Logan stood up straight, his expression a mix of shock and respect. “I’m impressed, Charles. You’re not the kinda man anyone would wanna fuck with, but I never thought I’d actually see you push back like that.”

“Desperate times demand desperate measures, my friend” he half joked, and the two men grinned to each other, killing the tension instantly.

Logan rested his hands in his pockets in a somewhat defensive gesture. The unusual twinge of shame told him he’d gone too far, and no matter how crass people thought he was, it still didn’t feel right to bully for answers the man who’d welcomed him in his family and home with open arms from the first moment they’ve met.

He pressed his lips and pinned his stare on the floor. Charles felt his self-awareness, and kindly gave him the time to level himself again.

“How do you know about ‘Ro and Hank?” Logan looked back at him.

“Hank,” the Professor only gave away. “He also mentioned your dispute with Avalanche.”

Logan rolled his eyes and began to pace again. “The guy’s an asshole,” he hissed.

“Is there anyone you haven’t considered as such during your first meeting with them?” Charles reminded him.

Logan growled, but said nothing. Charles let out a quiet laugh.

“I’m fully aware of how aggressive you can be when you ask questions. I just had a similar experience myself a moment ago.”

Logan fidgeted a bit. “Look, Professor-” he began, but Xavier stopped him with a wave of his hand.

“It’s alright, my friend,” he reassured him. “There are too many secrets, too many deflections when it comes to Rogue’s life after your departure. But as you were told before, you’re asking the wrong individuals; the only one who can give you all the information you need is Rogue and Rogue alone.

As for Avalanche, don’t forget where he came from. Also, as Hank already informed you, he can be quite protective of Rogue. He’s very loyal to her. I’m sure you consider this quality of his quite valuable, given the situations Rogue and her team come across with.”

“It’s true then? What he told me about their team – the Untouchables? Rogue insisted on you to let her make it?” Logan asked.

“She did,” the Professor admitted.

“But you’re not gonna tell me how she found the lab the blond and her second were stashed in?” he challenged.

Charles knew Logan wouldn’t let that go, so he gave him one small piece to figure out how it fit the puzzle.

“She didn’t find the lab; she was transferred to it.”

Logan felt the blood drain from his face. A long moment passed before he was able to stammer a word.

“ _What?_ ”

The Professor sighed and moved his chair closer to his office. Logan’s eyes followed him, unable to move from his spot. He was still in shock when Charles began to explain.

“Not all infiltrations and extractions take place in the same manner, Logan. Some infiltrations must happen in a way that won’t raise suspicions, and sometimes the extractions take a certain amount of time. The labs are not just places that hold mutants captive. They also hold valuable information about other labs, mutants and operations that run in other areas – and even other countries. During our conversation from the airport to the Mansion I explained to you about the political climate. We’re not dealing with one specific enemy anymore. There are several anti-mutant organizations we have no idea how deep their roots are – or how and _if_ they cooperate with each other. In order to find out, no matter how much I and everyone else despise this, sometimes hard choices must be made.”

At this revelation, Logan’s eyes became wild. “Are you fuckin’ serious? What, you spent so much time with Magneto, he managed to fill your head with his shit about making sacrifices?” he snarled.

“Logan, please,” Charles tried again, but felt his resilient patience running out. “I do _not_ agree with this tactic. Sending people to die or be tormented for a higher cause is not something I would _ever_ consent with and you know it!”

“ _Then why the hell didn’t you go get her the moment you knew the fuckin’ humans had their hands on her?_ ” Logan yelled infuriated.

“ _Because she asked me_ not _to!_ ” Charles yelled back.

Silence choked both men. Logan merely stood there, his stare and mind lost.

 _Is she really capable of that?_ This _is who she is now?_

The old telepath shook his head tiredly. He let his hands fall heavily on his chair with a sigh.

“I’m sorry about my outburst. I’m afraid this subject is not easy for me to discuss,” he muttered apologetically.

“Don’t, be” Logan rushed to say. “It’s not your fault.”

He crossed his arms and let his steps drag him to the window. He watched the night making the beautiful gardens look dim and gloomy. Maybe Storm, Hank and Charles were right for not giving him answers. He never expected them to be so wrenching; and he didn’t think he wanted to listen any more of this either.

The Professor turned his chair and saw Logan slouching disheartened. He knew he wasn’t ready for this, but unfortunately Logan had once more overestimated his ability to deal with something he wasn’t prepared for.

He considered leaving things here, but since he had reached the most critical part of Rogue’s evolvement, Charles figured he ought to give a conclusion.

“After Rogue was taken into the facility, she began to interact with Avalanche almost immediately and on daily basis. Later on, Emma crossed paths with her as well. Given the circumstances and the way things turned out, one might say _they_ were the ones who found _her_.”

Logan was listening without responding. He just kept focusing to everything outside Charles’ office, to all the things that had nothing to do with their conversation, to everything that kept his thoughts as far away as possible from all the things he’d heard.

Rogue; Marie; kid. She’d given him two different names, and yet he had to find another to call her with. One that would suit her, that would give him a way to define her, to help him register her in his mind. He released a frustrating breath he held. He knew that name didn’t fit her even while he was giving it to her. But it was a way to keep things easy between them; _safe_. It kept her safe. Most importantly, it kept _him_ safe.

 _Kid_ ; he snorted. How wrong he was…and now it was made to him clearer than any possible way.

“Logan?”

He whipped his head to see Charles watching him with a worried expression. Had he heard his thoughts about her? Was he projecting too much again?

“Are you going to be alright?” the telepath asked carefully.

 _Fuck_.

“I’m fine,” he responded quickly.

Charles nodded unconvinced.

“Are you still coming to the briefing? If you wish to-”

“Yeah,” Logan ushered, and turned on his heels. “Is everyone down already?”

The Professor followed him. “Storm just informed me that the mission participants have gathered in the War Room; we’re expected in order to begin. Rogue-”

Bike engine sounds roared outside the gate, keeping Charles from completing his sentence. Both men noticed from the window two dark figures riding to the garage. Apparently, one of the three women had been sent back earlier during that 36 hour investigation.

“Ah; I believe we’ll be ready to begin the briefing sooner than I thought,” the Professor commented.

“Swell,” Logan growled, and after a scorching look at the rider ahead, he stomped his way out.

……

The closer Logan and the Professor got to the War Room, the louder the whispers and scents were growing. Tension, strain, uneasiness were belching from a vortex of brisk words and low murmurs.

Logan’s nose twitched from the heap of chagrin that attacked his senses. He glanced at Charles, whose frown gave away the horde of thoughts and emotions emanating from the War Room, charging his mind.

Charles’ stare met Logan’s. In cases like the one they were walking into, the word “war” seemed to fit too well the description of this room.

The first voice Logan caught was Avalanche’s. He was whispering quickly in a spiky manner with a woman he couldn’t identify. He only caught her name; Domino. Storm’s voice came next, her anguish obvious in her laconic responses.

Among the chorus and scents, he managed to make out the ones of Pete, Kitty, Bobby and Jubilee. The firecracker’s shrieking voice was heard above everyone else’s, piercing his ears. He chuckled. They were all children when he’d left – as green as they come when he and Storm were training them. Now they were in the War Room making suggestions and giving their opinion about the probable execution of the upcoming mission. What dawned him made his laugh short-lived.

Time had flown away; and so had they.

“Good evening everyone.”

Charles’ greeting after the door swished open snapped Logan out of the soul-stirring reminiscing. Better this way; he was too emotionally charged already. Adding nostalgia would only make things worse, and he needed to be as level-headed as possible for what was coming.

Everyone greeted back with a nod, a gesture or a respectable “hello, Professor”. Both Xavier and Logan had paused for a second at the door, giving Logan the chance to file away everyone in the room. While his attention was flying from one person to the next, he noticed several of the mutants doing the same.

His eyes fell first on every face he called familiar.

Pete looked like the same kind, quiet giant – just as when they’d first met. Logan could tell from the edginess his eyes carried that his battle experience was richer, yet whatever the Russian had done or witnessed, Logan was glad to see that the man’s heart was still in the right place.

Piotr offered a modest smile and a faint nod, which Logan returned immediately.

His attention then went to Kitty, and he had to keep himself from goggling. Where Colossus was still the same at everything that mattered, Shadowcat seemed to have become an adult version of the half pint she used to be. Older, sturdier, her demeanor exhibited a certainty that had replaced her adolescent doubt and naivety.

Her lips widened, but were still too tight for her greeting to be called hearty. She was shyly staring at him, waiting for a reaction. Logan jerked a “hello” with his head, and a warm grin spread on his face; the kid was still reserved as hell.

He caught Icekid giving a slant look at her, making her fidget awkwardly as she turned her stare away.

Logan’s response was a nasty glare, which Bobby mirrored off the bat. _Prick._ He never liked the fledgling. Ever since he’d introduced himself as Rogue’s boyfriend and demanded to be called Iceman – freezing his hand for good measure – he knew there’d come a day where he’d have to slug the snotty little shit for good measure.

Storm’s words about the way he’d let Rogue take all the haze for the cure came back to him, and Logan had to force his eyes to leave the douche before this reunion took a wrong turn, and Icecone’s face a paste.

“Hey, Wolvie.”

Jubilee’s greeting was escorted by a sassy pop of her bubble gum.

 _Who else?_ Logan smirked at the yellow one. “Hey, firecracker,” he teased with an upturned brow.

Jubilee gave him a hotshot stare, while she kept chewing her gum casually with her hands in her cargo pants pockets. Logan couldn’t tell if she was pissed with him or just indifferent. Always a tough to read this one.

The clicking sound of a Zippo lighter made him turn at the far corner of the room. Logan studied Pyro as he played with his lighter, watching the feral man cautiously through half closed eyes. The kid had changed since the last time they’d met at Alcatraz, and not in a good way. There was more arrogance – if that was possible – more ire in his eyes than Logan wanted to detect. John was still the same angry, cocky jerk he used to be when he lived here as a student. A head shake almost escaped him. What a waist…

Logan peered at the woman standing next to Pyro, recognizing her as Callisto. She had her back on the wall with her arms crossed, practically posing in the same uppish style all Brotherhood members seemed to share. Two funny-looking men he’d never seen before were beside her, eyeing him suspiciously.

 _Assholes_ , he mused in disdain.

“Let us begin.” The Professor led his chair towards the large conference table, putting a temporary end at the uncomfortable situation.

Storm, Erik, Hank, Kurt and Yukio followed him; Emma – who’d been watching the exchange with great interest – simpered and sauntered to her seat. Logan remained on spot, watching his friends, enemies and former students taking their places. Avalanche, a woman and two more men who seemed to be part of Rogue’s team also stayed put, staring at Logan with the same wariness he displayed.

Charles addressed all of them. “Logan; if you could please come closer. All four of you as well, Avalanche.”

“What about Rogue and Tattoo?” Avalanche asked, and Logan was grateful the guy was, unconsciously, buying him some more time. “Aren’t we gonna wait for them?”

The Professor sensing Logan’s tension, thought it best to get straight to the matter. “We _are_ going to wait for them to come. But first, I would like Logan and Yukio to be introduced to you all; and vice versa.”

Logan sucked in a breath and walked closer, making sure there was enough distance between him and the rest, as well as ensuring he had everyone inside his periphery. 

“As you’ve all already been informed,” the Professor continued, “this meeting takes place so the new mission data are presented by Rogue and Tattoo – data that will very likely alter the original plan. Me and Erik decided that this was the right opportunity for Logan and Yukio to be in this meeting so they can see for themselves how things are executed, and have their integration to be as orderly as possible.”

“So what is it you want from us, Professor?” Bobby voiced.

“Aid our two new members to adjust to the current situation, Robert. You’re one of the X Men that has been in the Mansion for many years. So are Peter, Katherine and Jubilee,” Charles said, and looked at each of the referred team members. “I’m counting on you to help Logan and Yukio understand the way we function now – as well as their acclimatization and cooperation with the more resent residents.”

Bobby pouted in doubt, and Peter noticing Logan catching that, weighed in.

“Of course, Professor. We’ll do what we can to help,” he offered, and Charles gave him a content smile.

“Very well,” he nodded. “In that case, let’s begin with the introductions.” His eyes fell first on the Asian woman sitting on his right, next to Storm.

“This is Yukio,” he gestured. “Yukio comes from Japan; she is a highly skilled martial artist and according to Wolverine, an exceptional fighter. She possesses the power of precognition, which renders her able to foresee one’s imminent death.”

“Whoa!” Jubilee’s surprise echoed everyone’s awe, as they saw Yukio under a new spectrum. “So what, you can tell when someone’s gonna die?”

“And the way it’s going to happen,” Yukio added.

“Damn…” Jubilee was enthralled. “So…you know when each and every one of us in here’s gonna croak? And how?”

Logan rolled his eyes, and Yukio laughed. “It doesn’t work that way. I can see someone’s death only when their time has come and I’m close enough to ‘see’ it,” she explained in a more serious tone.

“So your desire to find out how you’re going to leave this world, Jubilation, will not be satisfied, I’m afraid,” Erik commented in a half-mocking tone.

“Oh, I didn’t want this info for me, Magnus,” Jubilee’s challenging tone and loud chewing of her gum made Erik send her a bewildered look. Logan grinned and the rest of the mutants, minus the Brotherhood, tried to hide theirs.

“Jubilee,” Charles chided.

“What? I thought we were introducing to each other, Prof. Can’t I ask what the powers of the Samurai chick can do?” Jubilee protested.

“Jubilee, I’m sure the Professor has no issue with us asking elucidated questions,” Storm intervened calmly, “as long as they take place in a more discreet manner.”

“Thank you, Storm,” the Professor recompensed. He gave a pointy look at Jubilee, which she dismissed with a “whatever” shrug.

Charles and Erik’s faces gave away their anguish. Hank, struggling to contain a snicker, motioned to Charles to continue.

“I don’t think any particular introductions are needed for Logan – or Wolverine, as you probably know him,” the Professor stated. “Several individuals present have fought by his side – or against him – at a certain point, and for the ones who’d never met him, you’ve heard about him. Still, for the most recent members; during Logan’s time with the X Men, we managed to achieve vital victories and prevent situations that would have caused devastating repercussions.”

Charles chose to avoid getting into more details, given that the truce between his X Men and the Brotherhood was still fairly recent. The past was the past. There was no reason to rake up what had taken place between the two factions. After all, every mutant in the room knew what he was talking about.

“Regardless, Logan has been an essential part of the X Men, particularly because of his fighting and survival abilities,” he finally concluded.

“What kind of abilities?”

Logan looked at the man who’d asked the question from the corner he was sitting. He was a short, bald guy with elfish ears and big goggling eyes that made him look more like an alien than human. He seemed harmless, someone most people would look at with pity or disdain if they passed by him on the street, yet Logan wasn’t fooled; if this little fella was with the Brotherhood, it was because he could do some serious damage.

Before the Professor was able to answer, a black-haired woman with red shades spoke. “Healing factor that allows him to regenerate in mere seconds; heightened senses, speed, strength and agility above average; animal-like body adaptations, as well as feral instincts and proclivity.” She sounded more like a computer than human.

“How the hell you know all that?” Logan asked with a mix of irritation and bewilderment.

“Logan,” Hank said calmly. “Sage does not need anyone to give her information about other mutants’ abilities,” he clarified, reckoning where Logan’s frustration was stemming from. “One of her gifts is to be able to ‘see’ a person's genetic code, reading their DNA sequences for latent and manifested mutations. This allows her to identify mutants and understand how their powers work more thoroughly than they themselves do.”

“Holy shit,” Logan murmured, and winced when the Professor gave him a lopsided look for his foul language. If what Blue was saying was true, then the woman must’ve known far more about his powers than she let on. If anything, that meant she understood he didn’t like indiscretion, and she was trying to respect that. That had just earned her some extra points in his book.

“Uhhh, one more thing.” The little guy gestured with his hand he wasn’t done yet. “You said this dude has ‘animal-like adaptations’?” Sage nodded, but said nothing. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked again.

Before Sage or anyone else was able to say anything, Logan lifted his fist. His claws sprung out, the breaking of his skin between his knuckles spraying blood drops around.

The abrupt move made the Brotherhood members jump, even though the distance between them and the Wolverine was significant. Logan gave a feral grin to the man, whose eyes had become even bigger.

At the sight of the bone claws, Storm and Hank sprung up from their seats in horror. Their assembling gasps were mirrored by the rest of the mutants who realized belatedly why they hadn’t heard the familiar sound the adamantium cried everytime it made its appearance.

“Goddess!”

“Oh my stars and garters!” 

Logan, familiar with the sight of his metal-stripped claws, didn’t see immediately what the fuss was about. After it dawned him that none of the old X Men knew what had taken place three years ago, he quickly pulled them back in, gibed by the annoying feeling of self-awareness.

The mutants who weren’t familiar with Logan were bewildered by the others’ reaction.

“What the hell’s goin’ on?” Domino voiced their confusion. “Why y’all act like that?”

Jubilee answered her question with another that many wanted to ask, but didn’t dare.

“Holy hell, Wolvie, what happened to your claws? Why they’re not covered in metal like they used to? Did ol’ metal man do that?” she squeaked, pointing a finger at an aggravated Magneto.

“What metal?” Drago grunted, expressing the loss of the ones who didn’t know about Logan’s past.

“I have absolutely no involvement in Wolverine’s ‘adamantium insufficiency’,” he clarified. “And the next implication aimed at me, will cause a very unpleasant situation to some,” he warned with a glare at Jubilee, who gave him a “bite me” face.

“Everyone, please calm yourselves and take your seats again,” the Professor commanded. Most sat down again, except Hank and Storm who kept staring at Logan, waiting for an explanation. He avoided their eyes distressed, and rubbed his knuckles in an effort to wipe away the blood, only to spread it even more. He pushed his back to the wall vexed, wishing he had Kitty’s ability to phase so he could get the fuck outta there.

After things came down a bit, the Professor tried to explain. “Logan is an individual who like some of you here, has experienced human cruelty. His skeleton has been coated with adamantium, once extending all the way to his claws. Apparently, after an incident took place, the metal that once coated his claws has somehow been removed.”

Logan appreciated the telepath’s effort to use the right words, and slowly began to cool off.

“Now, I understand that some of you might have plenty of questions for him,” Charles peered at Storm and Hank, “but if Logan is not willing to share what took place, we ought to respect his decision and keep our distances from this matter. The fact that his claws are now in their natural form, does not – by any means – translate in less effectiveness.” He looked around to make more impact.

Emma chortled. She seemed to enjoy the whole exchange and that made her even more obnoxious in Logan’s eyes. He glared at her and wished he could show her how “effective” his middle bone claw was.

Charles cleared his throat, trying to bring back the former – ostensibly – calm ambiance. “Now, if there are no other questions, I’d like to proceed into presenting the teams and their members.”

When no one spoke, Ororo, who’d found her steadiness again, sounded loud and clear.

“Go on, Professor,” she prompted.

“Logan unlike Yukio, you’re already familiar with most of the individuals who are present. Also, I was told you’ve been informed about the establishment of the new teams and their purpose of existence as additional aid to the X Men; still, given that our alliance with Erik and the Brotherhood has changed significantly the way we handle operations, I believe it will be for the best to guide you through this by introducing the members of each group separately,” Xavier stated, looking at both Logan and Yukio.

“That would be very helpful, Professor,” Yukio agreed. Logan just gave an indifferent shrug, keeping both arms and legs crossed.

“Go in any way you want, just get this over with,” he said impatiently.

“Very well,” Charles receded.

“Yukio, you’re already aware of Storm’s and Hank’s responsibilities in the team, as well as of their faculties,” the Professor inducted.

“Right next to Hank is Kurt Wagner – which Logan had been acquainted with several years ago. His codename is Nightcrawler, and his gift is teleportation.”

“Hello,” Kurt murmured with a shy smile, and Yukio responded accordingly.

“The young lady adjacent to him is Katherine Pryde. Her codename is Shadowcat for her ‘phasing’ ability that allows her – as well as objects or people she’s in contact with – to become intangible,” the Professor informed.

“You may call me Kitty,” she said politely, and Yukio bowed slightly.

“Last, but not least, Jubilation Lee. She prefers us to use the diminutive Jubilee. Her mutation allows her to generate pyrotechnic energy plasmoids from her hands,” Charles concluded.

“Among other things,” Jubilee said with an air of fake arrogance and a mocking wiggling of her eyebrows. “Hey, chica,” she saluted with two fingers.

Yukio simpered, and Logan snorted. He wanted to be irritated by the firecracker’s attitude, but he was too entertained by her poise for that.

“Yes, well…” the Professor tried to hold back his laugh. “This is the main X Men team. There are more members that constitute it, but here are the ones who comprise the group’s ‘spine’ – meaning they participate in missions far more frequently than others.

Now, for the remaining teams,” he continued. “At the far corner of the table is Robert Drake, also known as Iceman, whose name reveals his mutation as well.”

“You’re capable of making ice?” Yukio asked impressed.

“Among other things,” Logan said sarcastically, making Jubilee burst to laughs and the rest of the X Men to freeze on their seats. The Professor shifted uncomfortably οn his and Emma’s blue eyes gleamed with excitement.

Bobby gave him a hard stare. “Actually, I do a lot more than that.” His over-confident tone couldn’t hide his vexation.

“Yeah, he’s really good at freezing beers and sodas too,” Logan kept nudging.

“Is there a problem, _Wolvie_?” Bobby sneered. He didn’t like being mocked in front of Pyro – who was now snickering – and he certainly didn’t like being challenged in front of Kitty and his teammates.

“Logan-” the Professor began, but Logan stopped him with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t worry, Charles; I won’t deal with _Icekid_ now,” he stated dryly, giving Bobby a sharp stare.

“Piotr Rasputin,” the Professor rushed to say, directing the attention at the young Russian. “Also known as Colossus. His entire body is able to transform into a form of ‘organic steel’, giving him the ability to possess superhuman levels of strength, as well as superhuman stamina and durability.”

“Most call me Peter – or Pete if you’d like,” the polite giant offered at Yukio.

Logan smiled. It always amazed him how a man of Pete’s size had such a humble nature. His demeanor reached a level of modesty beyond the ordinary. The fact that he was also thrifty with words made Logan like him even more.

“On the other side of the table is Sage,” Charles showed the woman with the sunglasses. “As Hank aforementioned, Sage has the gift of ‘seeing’ a person’s genetic code, reading their DNA sequences for latent and manifested mutations.

Given Sage’s multifarious mutation, I’ll focus on its most principal skills, which are a degree of telepathic ability, a mind with unlimited storage capacity and great speed of thoughts, and also the talent to perform multiple functions at once by allocating a portion of her brain to each task.”

“How’s that work exactly?” Logan asked.

“You’ll be informed about Sage’s powers in detail during the presentation of the mission plan,” Storm said.

“Fair enough,” Logan murmured.

“Iceman, Colossus and Sage constitute the X Force team. Their main role is to handle the tasks that require more…drastic solutions,” Charles hinted.

“Is that why there are only three members in this team?” Yukio inquired.

“That is a reasonable question, Yukio,” the Professor applauded. “The truth is that the X Force used to have four permanent members, the fourth being Domino.” He looked at the woman with the dark mark painting her left eye. “She still operates with the team occasionally, but ever since Rogue required the formation of an extra team of similar nature, Domino is officially a member of the Untouchables – as they are called,” he pointed at the remaining mutants that were considered a fraction of the X Men.

“So, what you do?” Logan asked her.

Domino and the rest of the team turned to him. “I’m lucky,” she smirked.

Logan leaned towards her bewildered. “Say again?”

“Domino can subconsciously and psionically initiate random telekinetic acts that affect probability in her favor by making improbable – yet not impossible – things occur within her line of sight, thus causing her to have ‘good luck’ and her opponents to have ‘bad luck.’ This ‘probability field’ phenomenon can be anything; the full extent of her powers is still unknown,” Hank informed in his usual scientific manner.

Logan stared at him for a long minute. “Now that explained it,” he scoffed. Yukio thought it best to sweep in.

“What does that mean exactly?”

“What I said in the first place; I’m _lucky_ ,” Domino insisted in a tone that left no room for sarcasm. “A bullet comes towards me, something happens and misses the target. A truck is about to run me over and suddenly, boom! Another vehicle shuts its way, or a tire goes flat and the truck gets derailed.”

“Interesting,” Yukio grinned with a nod.

“So that’s all you do? You just stand there and things fly by you?” Logan jabbed some more.

Watching Domino getting pissed and not wanting Rogue to find a battlefield instead of a meeting, Avalanche decided to follow Yukio’s example and interfere.

“As a byproduct of her abilities, Domino’s natural reflexes and reactions are increased in superhuman levels. You know how that translates in battle. She’s also a superb marksman with various firearms, excellent swimmer and adept in the use of explosives. She has extensive training in various armed combat techniques and martial arts, with extremely high level athletic and acrobatic ability – among other things,” he countered.

“Right…” Logan was skeptical. All this seemed impressive, but until he saw each and every one of these wonder mutants in battle, to him these presentations sounded more like an advertising brochure made to stun. “Is Domino your real name?”

“Why the hell should I tell _you_?” she challenged.

Logan raised an eyebrow in appreciation. She wasn’t the kind of woman to drop a challenge. He liked that. “Call it curiosity.”

“Sorry big guy, but you’re not the only one with trust issues here. You want my real name? You gotta earn it. Lots of assholes out there going after my head,” Domino quipped.

“Gee, I wonder why,” Logan retaliated, and noticed Storm’s eyes going up in aggravation, as Erik frowned. Charles looked at him stoically, like he was dealing with a hotheaded adolescent, which was not far from the truth.

Yukio jumped in once more, gesturing at Avalanche. “What about you? Avalanche was it?” he nodded twice. “What’s your gift?”

“Generating seismic waves with my hands; means I can cause earthquakes. I can also cause an inorganic object to shatter or crumble into dust. I can affect organic matter and tissue too – which translates into causing seismic vibrations to the human body.”

“Quite useful power you got there,” Logan commented.

“Wait, so I get shit from him and you get credit?” Domino erupted.

“Don’t worry, he gave me enough shit when we first met too,” Avalanche assured her. He stared at Logan. “According to Rogue, that’s his way of saying ‘hello’.”

Logan’s eyes flashed at the subtext. He stood tall and dropped his hands. Before he had the chance to say or do anything, the Professor stopped him.

“Avalanche,” he gave a pointy look at the younger man. “How about you introduce the rest of the Untouchables?”

Avalanche was still vexed from his earlier encounter with the Wolverine, but consented to the Professor’s instruction. “This is Drago,” he beckoned at the man beside him. “He considers this his real name; it also indicates his powers. Like the mythical creature, he can produce fire from his mouth and when he goes into full mode, scales appear on his skin and his eyes turn golden. He also possesses superhuman strength, speed, heightened senses and reflexes, as well as certain healing ability.”

“So your powers are like Logan’s?” Yukio asked Drago. An irritated growl escaped the Wolverine, targeting his protégé.

Drago gave him a surly grunt. Avalanche held the sturdy man just in case he chose to do more than that. “You could say that,” he implied, getting a death glare from both ferals.

Logan fixed his attention to Drago and his nostrils flared, watching the other man mirroring his reaction. A golden flash covered the hazel of his eyes for a second when the guy’s scent hit him. Drago stared back unwavering, accepting the challenge. There was an animalistic side in him alright.

 _If you call ‘animalistic’ acting like a fuckin’ lizard_ , he thought. He didn’t like the guy, and from the aggression he was emitting, the feeling was mutual.

“Next to Drago is Puppet Master,” Avalanche kept on, ignoring the feral men’s scoping. “His name is Brian Palmer, but he prefers using his alias. His mutation gives him telepathic abilities that involve manipulation of cognitive functions as well as the kinetic part of the brain.”

“So he can make others do what he wants them to – like a puppeteer pulling his puppet’s strings,” Logan deduced, and saw Puppet Master giving him a thumbs up.

“Exactly, my friend,” Hank applauded.

Before anything else was mentioned, Storm spoke.

“Avalanche; you might as well inform Yukio and Logan about Tattoo’s abilities,” she advised. “She’s not present at the moment, but she _is_ part of The Untouchables.”

“You’re right,” he agreed.

“Tattoo’s powers are quite versatile. Her thoughts and emotions seem to become visible on her skin – sort of like temporary tattoos, unless she chooses to keep them on. She can also create a semipermeable personal protective deflection field. It provides nearly total protection from all attacks except those of insufficient force, like gas. Her force field disperses energy assaults, reflects kinetic impact off itself, and negates friction making it impossible to hold on to her. Tattoo cannot be grabbed or entangled when using her powers, becoming intangible to people as well as objects – just like Shadowcat,” Avalanche showed Kitty. “She can extend her force field to protect others in her immediate area, at least up to 30 cubic feet.”

“That’s a very impressive power,” Yukio admired.

“All the Untouchable members have extraordinary powers, my dear,” Erik commented. “Given the missions they take over, their mutations are the sole reason they managed to survive till this day.”

“Erik, since the Brotherhood is your creation, how about you give the information for the rest of the mission participants?” Charles suggested.

“Just give us the basics. This has been goin’ on forever already,” Logan complained.

“I agree.”

Emma’s dry remark made Erik glower at her, but decided to ignore both mutants. Still, they had a point. It was time for introductions to end and proceed to more important matters.

Unlike Charles and Avalanche, Erik addressed his two henchmen first – something that didn’t escape Yukio’s attention. She’d been warned about Erik’s elitist predispositions, but she still didn’t expect him to be so prone to demonstrate them so casually.

“First of all, my dear, I would like to inform you that in the Brotherhood we tend to keep our _real_ names instead of the ones humans gave us; thus you won’t be obligated to keep up with two different titles for each person you meet.”

The boast in Magneto’s voice made most of the X Men unable to hide their dudgeon.

“The young man on my right is Pyro; he’s my second-in command, like Callisto. She and her team joined us few years ago.

Pyro has the psionic power to manipulate flame by shaping it as he desires, increasing or decreasing its heat, intensity and size,” Erik said laconically.

“As for Callisto, her mutation is of dual nature; she possesses enhanced superhumanly acute senses, speed and reflexes, as well as the ability to sense the range of a mutant’s power.

Next to Callisto sit the most recent Brotherhood members,” he continued. “They were recruited right after I accepted Charles’ agreement for me and my Brotherhood to stay at the School.

First one is Peepers,” Erik gestured at the short man, who had previously asked about Logan’s mutation.

“Peepers is a mutant with ‘telescopic eyesight’ superior to that of any normal human. His telescopic vision enables him to clearly see objects which are miles beyond normal vision range, or too small for ordinary vision, and he can even see through matter.”

Logan watched Peepers carefully. There had to be more than what Erik was letting on, but he’d rather wait and find out himself than ask ol’ Magnus. Besides, he didn’t trust their “former” enemy wouldn’t conceal important info.

“What about the other one?” Logan showed with his head to the remaining Brotherhood member. The man glowered at both him and Yukio.

 _Must be fun to be around this guy_ , Logan mused. His keen sight had caught his crab claw-like hands the moment he’d set eyes on him.

“Shocker can generate powerful fields of bio-electromagnetic energy from his body,” Erik informed. “As you both have probably already noticed, he has cybernetic claws in lieu of hands, which can channel his electrical energy into shock bolts or high-voltage fields of electromagnetic energy.”

“Ok, so now that we’re done with this, can we cut to the chase?” Shocker hissed. His reaction made clear he didn’t like to be treated like an exhibit. Apparently those talons of his hadn’t made his life easy.

“Rogue and Tattoo will be here in a minute, and we’ll begin immediately,” the Professor assured everyone.

“You’re sure about that? ‘Cause we’ve been here for almost half a goddamn hour,” Pyro added angrily. 

Pyro’s challenge raised murmurs and glares from several of his former teammates. Charles responded to his old student with a decisive stare that left no room for argument.

“You’re not the only one who’s been waiting, _John_ ,” he emphasized. “Rogue and Tattoo have been working incessantly for almost two days in order for the mission to be successful and safe as possible for all of you. I believe they both earned the right to be given a few extra minutes before we declare them delayed.”

Pyro’s attitude lost some of its toughness; he knew better than to provoke someone like his former teacher. He began to play with his lighter, not in the mood to pick up a fight anymore.

“Excuse me, Professor.”

Yukio’s voice made Charles’ attention go to her. “You informed us about everyone’s powers and abilities, but no one told me what exactly Rogue’s powers do. What’s _her_ mutation?” 

Yukio received a plethora of confused stares, and Logan questioning glances from Charles, Hank and Storm. He kept his wince in check, but failed not to fidget uncomfortably.

“We’ve heard you and Logan have known each other for the past three years. Didn’t he ever mention what Rogue can do?” Kitty asked puzzled.

“Yeah, well…” Logan was pissed that he sounded as if he was explaining himself. “I don’t talk about other people’s mutations, ok? It’s none of my business,” he griped.

“Yeah, you’ve made that perfectly clear.” Jubilee tapped her index on the table. Logan’s head snapped up in time to see her glaring daggers at him.

Yukio tried to elaborate.

“Logan is very discreet about other people’s lives. And a subject like someone’s mutation never came up to be honest, so I don’t know what her powers are about,” she justified.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself? She’s about to enter in the next five seconds,” Emma stated with a smile that gave away how excited she was for the potential of the upcoming meeting.

Yukio and everyone else turned just in time to see the door swish open, allowing Rogue, who was followed by Tattoo, to come in.

After their return to the Mansion, the two women had asked mentally from the Professor some extra time for a quick shower and change of clothes. Their protracted quest for answers and unexpected excursion to New York’s sewers had left them exhausted. In order to be fit to pull through with the upcoming mission, a respite that would help take some of the fatigue and sewage smell off was much necessary.

“Sorry for the delay, but there’d been some hookups that kept us from coming back sooner,” Rogue said while approaching the large conference table. Logan gave her a long look. She was wearing a black spandex bodysuit, black gloves and black boots that made her look like a cat burglar; top half of her hair was restrained back with a discreet silver barrette pin, allowing thin white locks rest around her face.

Her boot heels clicked steadily on the metallic floor, the confident pace giving away a lofty determination time and experience had graced her with. Tattoo’s heavy combat boots were completing the rhythm Rogue’s steps created, until Rogue paid closer attention on the faces of the people in the War Room and halted.

She looked around more carefully, noticing Bobby’s surly expression, Kitty’s inhibited posture, her team members’ stoic demeanor, and some of the Brotherhood members’ long faces. 

She focused on Storm, Kurt, Hank and Pete just to see them acting reserved as ever. A furtive glance at Jubilee got her a “don’t ask” stare, which made her peer at Logan; his stance was telltale that things haven’t been going as smoothly as the Professor hoped.

“Don’t worry my dear, you haven’t been too long,” Charles appeased the two young women, yet he could not fool them as both Rogue and Tattoo could hear the edginess in his voice. Rogue shifted her attention to Emma, her megawatt smile telling her how excited she was with whatever has been happening before she and Tattoo came in. Erik though didn’t seem too pleased, and the fact that he was eyeing her in a warning manner, gave her an idea of how bad things were.

With a small bow and a grin at Yukio, who smiled and bowed back, Rogue frowned as she peered around once more. “What did I miss?”

“Just the Professor trying to throw a ‘welcome back’ gig to big bad wolf back there,” Bobby answered first, pointing with his thumb behind his back before crossing his arms stubbornly.

Rogue heard Logan’s snarl before she saw it. “Huh,” she grunted. “That explains the cheerful faces,” she added dryly, and Jubilee’s loud snort was followed by Puppet Master’s snicker.

Logan pinned her angrily for good measure. He’d been watching her since she’d walked into the War Room, trying to spot as many details that would give away more about her. But aside her thick curves that always got his attention first and the sassy attitude that indicated the womanhood that was so new to him, there was nothing but cold irony and the stone-like disregard he’d gotten from her when they’d first saw each other. 

“Aren’t you in a peachy mood?” he threw her the gauntlet.

Rogue spared him a glance, but refused to pick it up. “Hardly; and neither will any of you after you hear the news.” Her eyes went back to the Professor. “Shall we begin?”

“What do you think?”

Shocker’s rasp comment turned all the heads. Erik was about to reprimand him, but Rogue beat him to it.

“Is there a problem, Shocker?” she asked placidly, bringing them all on the edge. Everyone in the room knew that Rogue was far more dangerous when she acted calmly than if she’d lashed out.

“Yeah, I have a problem,” Shocker threw back. “I have a problem when I’m called to the War Room for a mission and then I sit back and wait like an _idiot_ for you to be here!”

The teams looked at each other – some frustrated, some worried. Callisto and Emma acted as they were bored, while Pyro showed to share the same sentiment with Shocker. Yukio, unable to understand where this man’s aggressiveness was stemming from peered at Logan, who looked ready to jump him. He didn’t like the way Rogue was acting around him, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed watching that asshole giving her a hard time. God knew how much he’d watched her been through; and how much he’d missed that turned her to the person she was now.

Avalanche put his hands on his chair, ready to stand up, as Tattoo moved towards Shocker. Rogue stopped her by grabbing her arm and signaled to Avalanche and the rest who were following his lead to stay down. Avalanche caught Drago’s stiff shoulder, who refused to sit down; after a second glance from Rogue, he finally relented.

She shot a glare at Shocker – an indication of what was coming.

“I’m sorry you feel like that, Shocker, but your brain deficiency is not my problem. If your stupidity bothers you so much, I remind you that you’re in a school; plenty of ways for you to improve your IQ. I suggest you begin from the Mansion’s library and read your way up. This way, you won’t have to wait like an idiot anymore, but like a man smart enough to know when it’s best for him to keep his mouth shut.”

Shocker’s face turned red, but he was too stunned to come up with a proper reply. Erik ended the quarrel before it went too far.

“As Charles has already informed, Rogue and Tattoo were on their way to the War Room when this briefing began. Let’s not recycle the same themes for the sake of impression, shall we?” he pointed out to his congregant, leaving no more room for arguments.

The Professor and Storm nodded sternly in agreement, expressing the feeling of the majority. Logan gave Rogue a satisfied smirk, showing his approval about the way she’d handled this. The more time he was spending close to her, the more she intrigued him; and the more he wanted a re-acquaintance with her.

“Though I enjoyed thoroughly the good show Wolverine and the rest put on for us a few moments ago, I’m afraid I have to agree with Erik,” Emma interjected with her usual arrogant tone. “The constant skirmishes start to become monotonous. Let us proceed to what news there are, what do you say Charles?” she implied to him to take over.

The Professor didn’t need any encouragement. “Rogue if you could please begin?”

“Sure, Professor,” she replied. She cocked an eyebrow at the blond telepath. “I would never forgive myself if I ever allowed boredom ruin Emma’s entertainment.”

The snarky comment made Emma’s lips curl derisively, but unlike Shocker, she was wise enough to leave it there.

Rogue sent Tattoo with a head jerk to join the rest of the team and then walked to the Professor’s spot, who was moving next to Storm in order to give Rogue enough room for her presentation.

“For those of you who weren’t properly briefed, yesterday I got a call from one of my contacts to inform me that the facility we’re planning to strike tonight is quartering three mutants. These mutants were located and apprehended few days ago and they’re going to be transferred from Fort McClellan in Anniston, Alabama, where they’re currently held, to an unknown location.”

Rogue pushed a few buttons and a hologram appeared at the center of the conference table.

“Couldn’t you find anything about the new location?” Avalanche asked.

“Sadly no, that’s why we must retrieve the captives immediately and get whatever info we can from that base,” Rogue explained quickly.

“What about the base?” Drago’s question made Rogue look at him. The Viking rarely spoke and when he did, it was with three to five words sentences. She gestured at the hologram.

“Fort McClellan – or Camp McClellan as it was called originally – was a United States Army post. During World War II it was one of the largest U.S. Army installations, and after the end of it had various usages, such as hosting several military units, until it was closed in 1999. That same year, the local community leaders of Anniston and Calhoun County established the Fort McClellan Joint Powers Authority, expressing in that way their desire to revamp the facilities and the area surrounding them for the purpose of redevelopment and reuse.” Rogue kept presenting images of the fort and the acres around it while she was talking.

“So the community of Anniston wants the fort in order to be populated and upsycled by the locals,” Kitty concluded.

“Exactly,” Rogue concurred. “We talk about thousands of acres that could be used to offer opportunities for residential, commercial, industrial, technological etc development.”

“How is this information connected with the mission?” Storm wondered.

“At the time of its closure, Fort McClellan was home to the U.S. Army Chemical School – among other units. The Chemical Corps was transferred at the fort in 1952, when it began its operations. Also, in 1962, the U.S. Army Combat Development Command Chemical Biological-Radiological Agency moved to Fort McClellan too.

Recently, rumors that have been circulating for years among cognizant in the military were made known to the public; members of the corps who’d been housed in the fort were exposed to one or more of several hazardous materials during their service at the fort. You understand that after that information was out, the community leaders of Anniston and the Governor of Alabama were forced to postpone their original plan about rehabitation of the installations until environmental contamination would take place.”

“So let me guess, that gave the chance to other ‘stakeholders’ to sweep in and camp into that fort, right?” Jubilee said.

“Spot-on,” Rogue propped. “These rumors leaked for a purpose; and what the public isn’t aware of is that the area has been largely decontaminated few weeks after the fort’s closing. It began to re-operate secretly by a private company who has affiliations with branches within the army _and_ the government. Anyone who wants to guess which company is that?”

“Trask!” Bobby and John exclaimed simultaneously. They looked at each other, and after a brief exchange of glares, their attention was back to the holograms.

Rogue stifled a snort, and with a knowing look directed to the former frenemies, she turned to the projected images.

“As we all know, Trask has tight relations with the U.S. Army, and the government, for all the ‘toys’ he provides them with. Combined with the cash inflow and the proper ‘incentive’ from Transigen to the right people at the Pentagon and Congress, it was just a matter of days before they began establishing their research lab.”

“By ‘research’ you mean experimentation? Or something more?” Callisto’s voice was terse.

“We’re not sure yet.” Rogue shared her rising anger. It was the same sentiment that choked her everytime data like this was emerging. “In fact this is one of the reasons for tonight’s mission. From a partial reconnaissance that took place days ago, it seems that there’s more than just experimentation operating in this base. They didn’t decide to evacuate after the triple hit they took from us for no reason. There’s something important happening there and we need to find out before the secession completes.”

“Was it this contact of yours that gave you this information?” Erik asked.

“Yes,” Rogue answered curtly. 

Logan was watching the exchange quietly. He was fixed on Rogue, constantly taking in the way she was handling the questions and the people who asked them. Her assertiveness had shaken him, for he was now forced to separate her from the meekness he had affiliated her with in the past. The way she moved and talked exhibited authority that drove her movements, communicating her intolerance in any form of challenge. When he’d first met her, he’d enjoyed her sassiness and streets smarts. It was what had convinced him that she deserved to be the first person in a long time to have his respect and affinity. But by observing her now, new feelings began to spurt. Awe; admiration; pride; and something that looked awfully lot with what he could only call _want_. 

_Jesus fuck_.

Logan jolted. It couldn’t be. She was a kid – the same kid that became his first real friend in 15 years, the kid he’d offered his protection to. Even at their most intimate and tense moments, he always restrained himself from peering to that dark part that whispered to him the feels he wouldn’t let out.

 _Can’t be_ , he insisted, until a voice reminded him what everyone – including his eyes – have been trying to make him see.

_Not a kid anymore._

“Logan?”

The Professor’s voice draw him out in time to see everyone staring at him. Apparently he was so lost in thoughts, important things had been mentioned without him even realizing it.

“Are you alright?” Charles asked again. The double meaning of his question did not escape him. Emma was grinning.

“Yeah, I just…” he tried to come up with something, when he caught Rogue’s eyes. She couldn’t have known what he was thinking; _could she?_

Rogue’s piercing stare turned to one of snide apathy before taking her attention away all together. She wasn’t sure what angered her more: the fact that he was leering at her in the same way a drunk was staring at a bottle, or that he actually thought no one was noticing.

“I was wondering if you would like to share your opinion about this outlook, given your ample experience in such missions.” The Professor emphasized each word while giving him a reprimanding look. _Go along,_ he whispered in his mind. _You’ve been giving away too much for some not to notice._

 _And not just mentally,_ Emma added sternly, earning her an angry feral stare.

Logan uncrossed his arms and hanged his thumbs in his pockets, acting like he was thinking about it. “It’s too soon to tell. I’d rather wait to have all the info before I say anything.”

“Very well,” Charles said a bit reassured. He refocused on Rogue, who clenched her jaw as she pressed some buttons. The images of Fort McClellan disappeared and were replaced by holograms that presented units inside the facility.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have detailed reports about the installations or how much personnel they host. These pictures and some aerial footage that gives us a basic knowledge about the external function of the base is all we have. Given this, we’re gonna have to be extra cautious during the infiltration – especially if there are going to be any more hostages we’re not aware of.”

“Do we at least know the number of people that run them?” Domino asked.

Rogue shook her head in dismay. “All I can tell you is that these snapshots were taken at the west wing of the fort. Sadly, the nark who took them couldn’t stay too long to collect more information. Apparently the word ‘fort’ is literal. What we _do_ know is that the place is heavily guarded – as you see from the pictures our drone took – and that we can expect it to be as guarded, if not more, once we’re in.”

“So, an open attack is out of the question,” Colossus’ heavy voice concluded.

“Absolutely,” Rogue stressed. “We’d be fully exposed to unknown safety valves the facility has, the number of security staff that guard it and the equipment they’re carrying. Too high risk probability. Given how many team members this operation needs to carry it out, I refuse to take such leap.”

“We all agree with this, Rogue,” Storm pointed out. “I don’t think anyone here wishes to become a sacrificial lamb – even to extract the three prisoners and destroy the facility,” she glanced at the Brotherhood members. “Every participant is perfectly aware of the hazards that come with each mission. Increasing the demise rate is not going to make this operation any more successful.”

“Well said, my dear,” Erik settled Storm’s concern about him venturing the teams’ safety. “Exchanging some lives for others won’t do any good. Given that the three captives are members of the Brotherhood, makes it even more essential to us to have this mission accomplished; yet, suffering casualties is not the way.”

“Since we’re all in accord about this, let’s hear what the revised plan is about,” the Professor addressed Rogue. 

“Professor before we go through with this, I’d like to present the captives’ profiles,” she suggested. “Tattoo and I discovered some things related to them that are a bit…disturbing.”

“What kind of things these might be?” Hank swept in.

The holograms presented the faces of the three mutants that had become the primary goal of the operation.

“Some of you know Arclight and Spike from the Alcatraz battle,” Rogue began. “Originally they belonged to a group called the Morlocks, founded and lead by Callisto. As we all know, she later on infiltrated the Brotherhood along with many of her followers, leaving the underground community she’d forged behind.”

All eyes fell on Callisto, whose arms quickly crossed in front of her chest defensively. Her emitting tensity let on how that part of her past still affected her. 

She gave everyone an arrogant stare in an attempt to exhibit lack of remorse, until her dark eyes met Tattoo’s green ones. Defiance clashed with fury, and Callisto felt shrinking under the callous look of the woman who also bore marks both on her face and her soul.

Charles, Erik and Storm turned to Rogue in hopes she’d keep the two former Morlocks from clashing, only to see her watch the silent dispute calm and undistracted.

Aside from Hank, who was present during Tattoo’s rehabilitation, only Rogue was fully aware of how severely her time with the Morlocks had affected the green haired mutant. Even though Callisto was long gone before Tattoo was recruited, the insentient laws the former leader had forced had remained, causing tribulations the newcomers could’ve been spared from, had the new leader been taught to be more sensitized to _every_ mutation out there. Tattoo had managed to come to terms with Marrow’s and Masque’s treatment after a long period of introspectiveness and confrontation with both mutants; yet she’d never had the chance till now to do the same with the person she considered responsible for originating the flinty society system the Morlocks followed so blindly.

Judging it was best to avoid an out of time and place outbreak, Rogue guided the focus on the third hologram.

“Double Helix,” she announced, pointing at the depicted two-headed man. “Not much about his background in our hands. During our meeting with Marrow, Tattoo and I were informed that this particular mutant comes from a group named London Tunnel Dwellers.”

“Wait, so there are more groups like the Morlocks out there?” Logan cut in.

Rogue pushed herself to look at him. “Yes,” it was all she said, and proceeded with the briefing.

Logan gritted his teeth, obviously irritated by her overshoot. He wasn’t gonna let her keep slinking like that.

“How about some more details?” His voice had a challenging note that didn’t go unnoticed. “Me and Yukio just found out about the Morlocks; maybe you should give us something more about these other groups before you go on about who this guy is?”

Rogue turned around slowly. She exchanged a long hard stare with him. From the corner of her eye she caught Jubilee’s gulp, Colossus’ worried expression and Storm’s unease before focalizing entirely on the man across her. The tension in the room was more than evident.

Logan’s stillness did a great job making him look calm and collected, but didn’t manage to make him less unnerved. The brown of Rogue’s eyes had become darker, resembling quick sand he couldn’t escape from. He felt like he’d touched her skin, its power subsuming him all over again; only this time she was taking him in just with her presence, standing several feet away from him. Never had someone riveted him like that, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Rogue?”

Their silent dispute was interrupted by the Professor, making Rogue frustrated for losing her sway on him.

“Logan is making a reasonable argument,” Charles continued placidly. “A lot of this information is new to him and Yukio. It would be better if we offered more details in order to help them acclimate.”

Rogue’s lips were drawn to a simper that fooled no one. “Of course, Professor.” Her voice was coy, but it only made her whole demeanor look even more sinister. “You’re absolutely right.”

She motioned at Tattoo who – along with everyone – had been witnessing the whole exchange with fervid interest.

“Tattoo; you were a Morlock when we first met, and you’ve been present during our visit to them few hours ago. How about you share your knowledge about the underground societies with the newcomers?” she proposed, emphasizing the word “newcomers” while staring at Logan.

Logan was heaving in anger, the hazel of his eyes scorching her. Rogue ignored it pompously and leaned on the table, resting her body in a provoking manner. Jesus Christ, this woman knew how to push his buttons and right now she was punching them.

He cracked his neck and flexed his shoulders. Just when he thought he had her where he wanted, Marie, Rogue – whoever the fuck she was – managed to turn the tables on him. He just couldn’t catch a break. No one exceeded his hunting skills and instincts, but she was switching from prey to predator so quickly he wasn’t sure who was on the receiving end of the chase anymore.

And that pissed him off as much as it excited him.

Tattoo’s acerbic voice dragged him back to the present.

“The founders of the Morlocks were not the only ones who had the idea to rally all the misfit and outcast mutants to create a society with their own rules and terms. Because of the constant decline of human/mutant relations and the rise of political coalitions that favored bigotry towards us, several other similar groups and communities sprang the past two years in other cities. Τhe most distinctive one that shares a kinship with the Morlocks is the Chicago Morlocks. Their community was established with the help of former New York Morlock members who chose to relocate.

The London Tunnel Dwellers is another recently established underground group. European countries were always more tolerant towards the different ones, but it seems that now this begins to change too.

According to information that was collected by contacts who live and operate in Great Britain, an anti-mutant, Christian-based sect/hate group called ‘The Church of Humanity’ was formed some time ago. Based on what we know, it’s the more radical offshoot of the Friends of Humanity that in several cases caters the mutant hate sentiment here in the US. Until recently, the London Tunnelers were being pursued by an agent of the Church of Humanity named Mr. Clean, a genetically engineered human who was stalking and killing mutants.”

The rising commotion of whispers made Tattoo stop. After a moment, with the Professor’s encouragement, the silence was restored, allowing her to continue.

“So far, we weren’t able to find out whether or not the Tunnelers survived the persecution, but the fact that Double Helix decided to smuggle himself in the country is not a good sign. The Chicago Morlocks offered him refugee, but according to Marrow, before we discovered he was captured along with Arclight and Spike two days ago, he’d been missing for the past two weeks.”

“And he’s not the only one,” Rogue cut in and everyone looked at her.

Even though she was referring to everyone, Rogue glanced at Storm. The weather witch was still the Morlocks’ official leader.

“Azazel has been missing too,” she said agitated.

Storm’s eyes gave away her surprise. “Why didn’t Marrow inform us sooner?” she demanded.

Rogue shrugged a shoulder. “Azazel always had the habit of disappearing for extended amounts of time. Given his powers, Marrow never worried he might’ve been caught. After the information we shared with her, she thought that maybe we should look into it too. Looks like this base hides more than what we expect to find,” she stared at the holograms fraught.

“Let us hope it does,” Erik countered. “The fact that more mutants disappear, especially ones who seem capable of avoiding any apprehension, is quite unsettling.”

The War Room went silent. This mission and its outcome were becoming more and more demanding; a bad sign.

“Speaking of powers,” Sage’s steady voice rose. “If you’re done with the briefing about the underground societies, how about you tell us a bit more about those guys’ mutations? Maybe the answers we’re looking for are there.”

“Or maybe the answer is a puzzle that consists pieces from both the mutations _and_ origins of these mutants,” Emma hinted.

“Good point, Emma,” the Professor agreed. “Perhaps the answer lies closer than we think. Given that, let’s hear about these individuals’ powers,” he gestured at Rogue once more.

“Well, there’s not much to say about Double Helix,” she began, still partially leaning on the conference table with her hands on it. “The image presented here is quite old, taken from the time he was still living in England before he was assimilated by the London Tunnelers. Aside from the extra head his mutation developed, this man possesses no other extreme gifts or powers. As for the other two…”

Rogue moved a bit to send a knowing look to Erik’s henchwoman.

“Callisto,” she voiced, and the former Morlocks’ leader frowned at her.

“You’ve known Spike and Arclight since the time you’ve been establishing the first mutant underground society here in New York. Given the time you’ve spent with them and your ability to tell the extend one’s powers have, care to elaborate?”

Callisto’s eyes narrowed for a second before silently asking Magneto’s permission. After a curt nod that signaled his approval, Callisto looked at the others.

“Arclight possesses the ability to generate seismic energies with her hands that cause shock waves and geo tremors. She also has superhuman strength, stamina, durability and resiliency.” She was laconic and to the point, making clear that she wasn’t going to get into more details about her fellow mutants.

“Spike is covered in porcupine-like quills – most notably on his face. He can shoot ‘em from his body or use ‘em as a shield.”

“Is that all?” Sage insisted, being the one who’s been interested in the captives’ powers in the first place.

Callisto hesitated for a moment, considering it. After the brief pause, she expressed her doubts. “Doesn’t make sense; they’re both beta class mutants, not powerful enough to be kept alive for something more than experimentation. Double Helix is an even lower class. Why the humans would be so hell-bent to get ‘em?”

“We had the exact same questions when we first found out,” Storm responded. “But something Kurt mentioned before the War Room briefing makes the attention of the humans justified.”

Everyone looked at the blue teleporter, and John asked what most wanted to. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“Kurt suggested that maybe it wasn’t their powers the humans were going after, but possible information about something or someone they’re looking for,” the weather witch explained. “Perhaps this is what we should be focusing on.”

“Is there something these guys know that would make ‘em a target?” Logan directed the question at Callisto and Erik.

They both pondered. “If it was the Brotherhood Trask was aiming, there are mutants that occupy far more important positions and knowledge than these two individuals. I don’t believe my organization is the primary goal,” Erik offered.

“As for the Morlocks and the Omegas, it would make more sense to try to capture _me_ ,” Callisto added. “Why go for Spike and Arclight?”

“Perhaps the humans thought they would be easier to be captured?” Kurt spoke for the first time.

“That does make sense,” Domino agreed. “There are interrogation methods that can crack the toughest shells. It wouldn’t be the first time Trask takes a detour to get what he wants.”

“Those are perfectly solid theories,” Rogue took the initiative to bring all of them back to the reason they were in the War Room. “But until we extract the three mutants, they’re just that. So, now that the presentation of the captives’ profile is over, how about we have the new plan presented as the Professor had asked in the first place and worry about those questions _after_ we bring the hostages in?”

“You’re making a logical point, my dear” Erik agreed, as Charles nodded in accord, and then at Rogue.

“Let us begin.”

The holograms switched back to images displaying the exterior of Fort McClellan, along with the wider area surrounding it.

“Not owning much about the interior of the facility, sets infiltration through hidden ‘entrances’ or ‘exits’ too difficult and dangerous. We don’t wanna make our presence known until the right time. So just like in the original plan, Storm, Avalanche and I thought it best to get inside in a kinda…unorthodox way.”

“What do you mean?” Bobby asked.

“Remember when we were students, the time we were discussing about the Trojan War and how the Greeks managed to invade Troy – a city that’d been impregnable for centuries?” Rogue hinted.

Bobby goggled at her, and Kitty answered on his behalf.

“You’re talking about the Trojan horse,” the petite brunette explicated. “The Greeks were struggling for years to enter the city, but all efforts failed. Until Odysseus, king of Ithaca, came up with the idea of building a gigantic horse in which a number of soldiers would hide in. The Greeks left it outside the city walls as a gift and a sign of good will, in order for the Trojans to think that they retreated.

After the horse was taken inside the walls, at night the Greeks who were hiding inside opened the gates and the Greek army invaded, finally conquering Troy.”

“Excellent, Kitty,” the Professor beamed with pride to his former student, as Storm nodded approvingly with a bright smile.

Logan snickered and shook his head at the way Charles and ‘Ro were gloating, taken over by their role as teachers. They were the X Men and this was a War Room meeting, preparing them all for a mission with possibly high killing rate where lives would be at great stake. But even though this mansion was a home to many mutants and a headquarters for the ones giving the good fight, above all it was a _school_ ; a place for people who loved and possessed enough knowledge to know they were morally obligated to protect it, share it and use it as the most important means against bigotry.

Erik smirked respectfully to the young mutant, while Pyro made a face to hide his disturbance about his shortage on the subject. He used to be a student here, but he was never an enthusiast, considering the usage of his gift more important than the expansion of his mind – a mistake that’d cost him the fight against Iceman at Alcatraz Island, something that made him sore to this day.

Rogue tried to contain her laugh when she saw Jubilee rolling her eyes teasingly, but her upturned lips gave her away. Jubes always loved to razz Kitty for being ‘every teacher’s dream pet’ as she called her.

“Though telling the whole story in details wasn’t really necessary, you’ve done a great job explaining it for the ones who weren’t aware or didn’t remember it, Shadowcat; and also you’ve made obvious once again why you were the teachers’ favorite,” she quipped, making her former friend blush in seeing her teammate’s smile at her. 

“Anyway,” Rogue took Kitty out of the awkward position she was in, “this is how we plan to infiltrate the fort.”

“Care to be a bit more specific?” Callisto said impatiently.

“Will do; but before that, I’d like to pro forma mention that the Professor along with Erik will be watching the mission’s progress from here, as they always do. Whether Wolverine and Yukio will be present, is up to them to decide.”

Rogue’s disregard vexed Logan. As much as it made sense to call him with his codename in the War Room, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the reason she’d used it wasn’t for the sake of formality, but to entrench once more her dissociation from him.

He looked at her through half closed eyes. The wrinkled corners around his mouth were telltale of how livid he was. She kept disregarding him, acting as if this attitude didn’t affect either of them. But instead of creating a bigger rift between them, it provoked feels they’ve been in stasis or out of his awareness; and she didn’t even seem to care about the repercussions.

“Sage.”

Eyes hidden behind black lenses landed on Rogue. The white streaks reflected on the mutant’s sunglasses.

“Your cerebral skills force me to ask you to stay here as well. You’ll be the coordinator of the mission.”

Sage’s disappointment punched through her shades. Her discontent was evident at the way her shoulders dropped, her grievous demeanor adding even more to that.

Rogue knew how much the dark haired woman resented witnessing the havoc from safe distance. Neither of them ever made that choice voluntarily; Sage’s hunger to be in the eye of the storm matched hers in every way.

“Sorry, hon. I know you love to be in the heat of battle, but we need you to stay on the back seats for this. You’re the only one who can pull this task, and your part in this mission is crucial. Your mutation will determine whether this operation will be successful or not.”

Sage pouted and sighed in dismay. “Rain check,” she demanded.

Rogue rewarded her with a sassy smirk. “Count on it.”

She then pointed at the switching hologram. “Now, about the mission-“

“Hold it!” 

Her head whipped at the direction of the gruff voice.

“Storm said we’d get more details about Sage’s mutation during the mission plan,” Logan reminded. “Care to explain?”

Rogue eyed Ororo. Since Storm was the one who’d assured Logan he’d get a more thorough background about Sage’s mutation, Rogue was about to throw the ball at her court; but one stare from the weather witch made clear that this time she was going to have to talk directly to him. _She_ was the one doing the briefing after all.

Rogue’s nostrils flared, stretching her back as she addressed him. Her eyes were like glass.

“Sage’s mind works in the same way as a supercomputer. She can replay a movie she’s seen in her mind, play a game of internet chess, _and_ focus on battling an opponent simultaneously without any one task distracting her from another. Given this gift she owns, her guidance will give us the tactical advantage during the mission’s execution.”

Logan’s stare went from Rogue to Sage and then back to Rogue. “Seriously?” he frowned in disbelief.

Rogue’s glower said it all. “Does it look like I’m in the mood for larks?”

A motion caught both their attention. Puppet Master’s shoulders were shaking from his silent chuckle, aware of what was waiting the Wolverine guy if he kept nudging. His amusement was shared by Drago. 

“And the rest of us?” Colossus tried to calm the tension. “What about _our_ posts?” 

“You’ll know after one more person we need for the mission agrees to accompany us,” Rogue assured.

“Who exactly is that individual?” Hank couldn’t contain his curiosity.

“Emma!”

Rogue’s exclamation made everyone look at the White Queen.

Emma eyed her with a dazed wintry blue.

“ _Me?_ ” her shapely eyebrow rose a notch. “What do you want _me_ to do?”

Rogue’s devilish grin made Logan’s hair stand up. The once green hooded kid with the doe eyes that seemed to have jumped out of the celebrated fairytale would’ve made the big bad wolf shake in his tale with the ferocity her pupils exuded.

“I have something special for you that matches your skill-set perfectly,” she implied.

“May I know what that is, or you plan to reveal it in the heat of the mission?” Emma scoffed.

“Does that mean you’ll take the job?” Rogue answered with another question.

The telepath huffed, feeling divided by her desire to continue this cat-and-mouse game until she exhausted her “opponent”, and the need to finish this War Room meeting – and subsequently the mission –sooner than later.

“If that’s what it takes to finish with this,” she reluctantly receded.

“Perfect,” Rogue beamed in arrogance, knowing that the sparkling blond wouldn’t let that lie.

She looked forward to it.

“Emma’s role, even thought important, takes place only in the first phase of the mission, so I’ll surpass it for now and discuss it with her after the briefing.”

“Seriously now? You’re not gonna tell us about her part on the mission?” Shocker protested, the rest of the Brotherhood sharing the sentiment.

“Like I said, Emma is vital for a very small and specific part of the operation that has _no_ immediate effect on its outcome,” Rogue insisted. “You _will_ find out what is it about _after_ I discuss it with her.”

Shocker sneered. He didn’t like the way things were done, and he had no qualms showing it. He was about to press on, but a motion from Erik kept him at bay.

Rogue ignored him and went on to explain in detail the mission’s execution. 

……

“Any questions?”

Rogue looked around after the end of the briefing. Storm and Avalanche had participated at the presentation of the plan by adding the details of the original part, while Rogue explained the new additions that had taken place after the tipoff.

Logan was observing her with an expression that was half wonder, half dispute. His eye ticked as he watched some strands of silver tickling her thick eyelashes. With a gentle notion of her fingers, the loosen hair landed on the side of her face to lightly caress her cheek.

He blinked twice to recover, but given what he’d witnessed only a minute before, he couldn’t. The timid, fledgling mutant had been swamped by a thorough, focused woman who knew how to command merely by her presence. During her presentation, he kept trying to find a hole or a flaw at the plan she’d sorted out, but didn’t seem to be any. She was extensive and precise as they come, and he couldn’t contain the smug, proud grin that escaped his slightly open mouth.

A piddling notion caught his attention, and saw Yukio nodding at him approvingly with the same smirk he had. He could tell that from what she’d witnessed from the moment Rogue had set her boot in the War Room, the redhead’s original impression of liking her was increasing with each passing minute. He couldn’t blame her.

Seeing some considering the plan and others conversing quietly with their teammates, Rogue decided to give everyone time to reflect. She turned her attention to the holograms, until Shocker’s voice came up.

“You’re sure this is gonna work? Those are our people we’re talking about.”

Rogue began to respond while she was turning around.

“As Storm, Avalanche and I already mentioned, this is the best possible-“

“I wasn’t talking to you!” Shocker spouted. “I was talking to _our_ leader,” he motioned towards Magneto.

Erik gave a dour stare to his follower and beckoned to Rogue to let this go.

Rogue gave Shocker a once-over and then locked eyes with him. After a furtive glance to Erik’s way, her focus switched immediately back on Shocker again. Her look was steady and cold, giving away no emotion. She didn’t blink once.

“My bad.” Her deep, low voice spread the cold it held to the entire room. Quiet, tranquil Rogue was never a good sign. Not a good sign at all.

“Shocker,” Erik’s tone was sharp. “Rogue has been preparing this operation along with Storm and Avalanche for quite some time. If there’s anyone who can guarantee for its outcome it’s them.”

Erik left no room for argument, but his new follower wasn’t willing to brush this over. Magneto peered next to him and saw his henchmen considering the words of the Brotherhood’s recent addition. His lips became a thin line. He was certain that Pyro and Callisto wouldn’t dare to oppose him publicly, but he could witness the seed of doubt taking root in them. Perhaps Wolverine – and Rogue before him – was right. Apparently, it was still too hard for both sides to learn how to march on the same path instead of walking parallel roads; and perhaps too soon.

“I get that, but things changed the moment two of our people got caught,” Shocker insisted. “Given that Spike and Arclight are Brotherhood, shouldn’t _we_ be the ones to call how we’re gonna get them back?”

“Are you familiar with data collection and strategic planning?” Avalanche threw at him. “We’ve been doin’ this long enough to know how to re-adapt a plan without taking high-stakes. Besides, you haven’t been with the Brotherhood long enough to form such strong bonds with them. You’ve never even met those guys we’re going to extract. You’re seriously telling us you’re _that_ emotionally invested and that you can do a better job at finding a way to get them out of the hellhole they’ve been thrown in?”

Shocker sneered. “They’re _our_ people.”

“They’re also captured mutants in need,” Storm emphasized. “Their background or where their allegiance lies does not matter to us – nor makes us less or more determined to rescue them. The effort we put is the same in _every_ occasion.”

“Besides,” Rogue added, “when you first came here you were informed about the alliance between Professor Xavier and Magneto. It was made clear to you that no matter what you’d heard about the clash between the two sides, we’re now fighting the same fight.”

Her eyes were something uncanny. Rogue knew what this was all about and she was determined to tear this thorn out before it went in too deep.

“It was never made clear to me I’d have to live under the same roof with mutants who turned against their own,” Shocker snarled.

Rogue kept herself from smiling triumphantly.

_Gotcha._

“What the hell _that’s_ supposed to mean?” Jubilee glared daggers at him. Tattoo’s mouth grooved in anger and Master Puppet’s laid back attitude turned into one of vigilance.

“You all know what I’m talking about,” Shocker spat, “but not everyone in this room has the balls to actually spell it.”

“Shocker! That’s enough!” Erik vociferated, seeing Avalanche and Domino ready to fight back, as Drago’s eyes begun to glow. The Professor, Storm and Hank’s request to every individual to keep their calm was overtaken the moment the Brotherhood emulated the Untouchables’ reaction.

Logan waved at Yukio to stay put, and then started to approach Shocker with a growl and his fists closed.

“People, people please,” Rogue lifted her hands in an attempt to quiet everyone. All eyes went on her, as hers stopped on Shocker. “Let the man speak his mind. Obviously he’s got something important to say.”

Storm watched in dread Rogue acting serenely, almost condescendingly towards Shocker. The weather witch knew the southern belle well enough to pick up the act behind the honeyed drawl that always appeared when exhaustion or fury took over the younger woman. She plunged her nails in her palms.

 _Calm yourself, weather goddess,_ a beguiling voice brushed her mind. _It is necessary for the deformed one to be taught his lesson sooner than later. Don’t worry; she knows what she’s doing. Plus, it will be quite a spectacle to see. She always knows how to put on a good show,_ Emma’s comment made Ororo’s blood run hot.

 _Get out of my mind, Emma! And from now on make sure you remain as far away from it!_ the ebony woman demanded in rising anger. Storm knew that Emma was right. Shocker needed to be put in place and Rogue had the right to defend herself; but mocking extreme mutations while indulging in watching mutants clash because of the way they chose to treat their gifts was still wrong and against the X Men’s philosophy.

Rogue caught the mental quarrel between the two women through Ororo’s strain and the notorious inclination of the blond telepath to play games she was familiar with. She ignored them though, having another fight to focus on.

“Go on, Shocker; share your thoughts with us,” she showed everyone. Her calm tone was reeking of irony and derision.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot, bitch!” he snarled, and knocked his chair away as he got up.

“Then stop acting like one,” Rogue responded. She let her hands hang loosely on her sides.

Logan watched her body switching to combat mode. He’d taken another step forward the moment he saw this dick jump up and now he was coming even closer.

“Ok, I’m sure that’s not the first time someone asks you, but what’s your fuckin’ problem?” Domino chimed in.

Shocker’s head snapped at her. “What’s _my_ fuckin’ problem? How about what’s _your_ fuckin’ problem? What the fuck is wrong with you trustin’ _her_? And you know what, if you assholes wanna gamble your heads that’s on you, but why the hell should _we_ agree with everything _you_ say?”

Before Erik managed to respond, Charles caught him first.

“Shocker, when you passed the threshold of _my_ house you were thoroughly informed about the situation and you agreed to it. What changed that makes you so argumentative?”

“Let’s just say that nothing stays hidden in this place,” Shocker implied.

“So your beef is that Rogue’s an X Man, or the fact that some love to recycle all kinds of bullshit gossip in this place?” Avalanche stood in.

“The Professor and Avalanche are right,” Storm stated strongly. “You’re perfectly aware of how things function here, Shocker, and yet you decide at this time and place, right before the mission begins, to cause commotion by challenging a prominent team member!”

“Before this meeting we didn’t know that three Brotherhood mutants’ lives were at stake! Now things are different. We’re not supposed to have a say in this?” Shocker looked at Magneto who was reaching his limits.

“Shocker, no one denied you or any of the other Brotherhood members to voice an opinion!” Erik rebuked him. “And also, don’t you forget that when Charles Xavier forms any kind of plan along with the X Men, I’m _always_ present and my estimation is taken under consideration. Is that clear?”

Shocker was gritting his teeth, but he was about to stand down when Rogue decided that she had to put out this fire and make sure it would never reignite again.

“Why don’t you say what your real problem is?” she challenged. “You said that nothing stays hidden in this place, and you’re right; nothing remains a secret for too long inside these walls. You think I don’t know which gossip triggered you? Why don’t you just spit it out and get it over with?”

Shocker sneered. “Why should I trust a mutant whose first choice was to heed to the humans who wanted to wipe us out with the excuse that they’re _curing_ us, and then ran off to live with them?”

“There you go!” Rogue exclaimed mockingly. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Several mutants from all teams groaned in frustration. Except Logan; he’d passed over indignation some time ago and now he was fuming. He felt the claws budge his skin and stretched his fingers. 

“God, not this bullshit again!” Jubilee moaned. “It’s been a fuckin’ century since Rogue took the cure and left, get the fuck over it already!”

“It’s not like he’s lying, is he?” Callisto jabbed.

_“Shut the fuck up, bitch!”_

Tattoo’s outburst made Callisto flinch, as the Untouchable member pointed a menacing finger at her. “You plagued enough people with that shitty mentality!”

Callisto recoiled enraged, followed by Pyro, whose thumb flipped his lighter open. As Avalanche, Iceman, Tattoo, Domino and Drago shifted, the rest of the X Men were either trying to calm the hotheads, or waited to see what would come down to act accordingly.

The voices of Xavier and Erik sounded simultaneously.

“All of you keep your calm and return to your seats!”

“Everyone!” Rogue’s interjection resonated above the upheaval, putting a stop to the rising turmoil. “Listen to the Professor and Erik and stay calm,” she ordered placidly. “It’s ok.”

“The hell it is!” a deep voice growled, and Rogue saw Logan seething from fury.

His neck was stretched from the tension. “It’s not ok,” he muttered infuriated, trying to restrain himself.

They continued to look at each other for a long moment. Logan saw the fierceness in her eyes, but he couldn’t understand why there was also so much surprise in them. He’d promised he’d take care of her. And in all the damage and violence he’d been through, he was still a man of word. So why she seemed so off from his reaction? Was Storm right then? She _really_ believed he didn’t care?

He swallowed hard when he saw her doubt turn into severity. “All of you stand down,” she whispered ominously. “This is between me and ‘mutant and proud’ boy over here,” she gestured with her head to the asshole who was giving her a hard time.

“So…where were we?” Rogue taunted.

“Your buddies seem to be oversensitive,” Shocker flouted.

“No more than you are,” she retaliated. “They just don’t see how a choice I’ve made years ago is for you, or anyone else, to judge; and they’re _right_.”

“Rogue,” the Professor pleaded. He was aware of what Rogue was trying to do, but he wasn’t sure if it would have the effectiveness she was going for – particularly now, with all the aggravation taking over. The time before a mission was always the most challenging one.

 _Trust me on this, Professor_ , she assured him mentally, and Charles deduced that recession was the best move.

“A mutant who gave up her powers just to be accepted by the humans who kicked her out can’t hold such an important post,” Shocker kept pressuring. “You sold your own! And for _what_? The fuckers who hunt us down, who wouldn’t think twice to torture you for sport and then kill you like a dog!”

Rogue stood still as Shocker’s screams and accusations sank in. An echo she’d been more oriented to ever since her powers resurfaced became louder. And then she felt it; the _call_.

When her mutation had emerged, fear and doubt were the only things Rogue could identify with. Her skin’s violent awakening had built up impenetrable walls between Marie and acceptance, and the more she realized how her powers worked, the more she tried to run away from them, shutting her ears to everything her power was trying to teach her about. She was so hell-bent to eschew herself, she didn’t know how to communicate with it anymore. When the cure locked up her mutation, that inner voice she should’ve never ignored had been shut down for good – as she hoped.

The moment the cure fell apart, her true nature erupted more powerful and determined than before. Like a river that started with frugal leaks through the cracks of the damn that restricted it until it collapsed, her mutation’s momentum was so ferocious, Rogue could no longer ignore it. After roaming the now unfamiliar world of humans and labs she’d became inured to, the time she’d been forced to spend with that part of herself had given her skin a will of its own that was quite keen on drinking in energy that potentiated even more Rogue’s life force, overtaking her during the process. She could feel the hunger stir and budge everytime an energy source was too near. The fear of hurting others and herself was still there, but less important than before. From a loud cry, it had become a choked whisper, strangled by the anger that had amassed over the years and pain.

She felt her skin pumping, pleading to be released. A hidden armor made of deadly flesh, expanding and reaching out of the fabric that was trying in vain to contain it.

Watching Rogue, Avalanche felt chills climbing up his spine. The last time he’d seen that eerie tranquility, she had surrendered to flames and mayhem an entire lab by leading the risen mutant captives. After their arrival at the Mansion, she’d fought hard to gain control over the voices and the powers she had collected. But that control was far from impeccable, and the suppressed ire going hand to hand with her mutation was a combination no one in this place should ever witness.

Rogue stood in front of Shocker. Her crooked smirk disguised her anger so effectively, he never saw her coming.

“What do you know about my powers and the price I and everyone on the receiving end of it pay?” she hissed with menace. “What do _you_ know about all these people who stood in line for the cure and the courage they needed to build to take it?

 _I_ was there; I _saw_ these mutants, felt the agony and guilt for the choice they’ve made. Right or wrong, we took a shot in our vein because we wanted a shot at life! A decent one! Who are _you_ to point a finger at this?”

Shocker lifted a claw with a madden expression. “You think _this_ is funny, bitch? You wanna talk about the toll a fucked up mutation takes on someone? Look at us!” he showed with his claw at Peeper, and then directed it at Hank and Kurt. “We’ve had it rough too, but we didn’t run to stand in line the moment we were promised we’d be accepted again if we became like those who kicked us to the curb in the first place!”

Rogue was listening with a “Jesus Christ, how many times do I have to go through this?” look on her face. She turned to Tattoo, who’d fallen back on her chair in indignation and then back to Shocker.

“You think that just because you don’t need a bottle opener, you had it worse than everyone else? Or that good looks saved the rest of us from hate? Not choosing the cure was your right – _just_ as it was those mutants’ and mine to go for it! And to get over and done with this, have my ‘gift’ first and then lecture me about it! ‘Cause the way I see it, having hands that cripple others is much worse than having crippled hands!”

She was now seething. “At least you found a place to belong and be accepted in; I’m still looking!”

“If you hadn’t traded your people for the normies, you’d have a place among us too!” Shocker spat.

Rogue’s face turned to stone. Seen her fury, Shocker realized he’d trudged some place he should’ve never stepped his foot in.

“ _My people?_ ” she repeated with menace. “What people? The people who were terrified to pass by me even when every inch of me was covered for _their_ safety? The people who jumped on me for deciding to take the cure because they had conveniently forgotten the looks of horror they were giving me everytime I took a glove off? The people who knew what’s it like to be rejected and yet treated me the same way? The people who’d assured me they’d be there for me, and the moment I decided something they disagreed with they fed me to the dogs? The people who’d promised they’d take care of me and then disappeared to go shove themselves in a hole to _CRY OVER FUCKIN’ SPILLED MILK?_ ”

The Professor recoiled at the outburst. Rogue had spent the last few years of her life training, honing her skills – both physical and mental – in every possible way. Part of that training was to always be in control – even if it was a superficial one. He’d never heard her curse before and now he didn’t know what to make of this.

Storm had seized up at the last phrase Rogue had screamed. Her words felt like a slap, though she was fully aware that the reason she spat them with so much rage was because it hurt _her_ more. She turned carefully, hoping the others wouldn’t notice, to glance at Logan. He looked like he’d stopped breathing. Knowing him well enough, she knew that Rogue’s accusation was like a stab and the shock and pain too great for him to deal with. 

Rogue’s tirade made Shocker realize too late his mouth had written checks his ass couldn’t cash.

Erik, regretting not interfering sooner, decided to step in.

“Rogue, I believe it’s time for this unfortunate quarrel to end-”

“Stay out of this, Erik!”

Her brusque command made everyone wince. Magneto swallowed hard at her rage.

“I’m sick and tired of condescending omega level mutants, almighty telepaths and flawless goddesses with powers most would kill to have, acting like I don’t know what a big fuck-up the world is! But most of all, I’m sick and tired of ugly assed _freaks_ flaunting their tragedy ‘cause for some reason they think this makes them so much better than me!” she screamed to Shocker.

During Rogue’s rant, Jubilee kept eyeing Avalanche. Her angst was obvious and Avalanche knew what her worry was about. Rogue wasn’t usually stumbling emotionally like that. Something – or rather _someone_ – had triggered an inner turmoil that Shocker had stupidly acerbated even more.

Yukio’s was watching Rogue’s outburst with a mix of interest and surprise. She observed the way the “kid” Logan referred to with immense affection, transmute into a formidable force. _Kuzuri_ rarely mentioned her, but from the few things he’d told her, the girl with the white streaks – although fearless and risky – was a sweet, quiet person that avoided confrontation as much as using her powers.

But this woman here seemed eager to reveal her true nature. While she was striking back at the guy who’d attacked her, Yukio could’ve sworn she saw the skin underneath her bodysuit to budge and thrum – like a force abiding into the depths of her darkest part was encouraging her to feed it.

That last snub had brought Shocker back to his senses. He snarled and leaned forward, a hairsbreadth away from Rogue; one last mindless attempt to prove that he wasn’t afraid of her, or her mutation.

“Rant to me like that again, and I’ll finish what Magneto didn’t six years ago!” he hurled.

Everyone held their breath. Rogue didn’t bat an eyelash. She stood still and serene, until a smile stretched out that soon turned into a snicker, making Shocker go ballistic.

“ _What’s so fuckin’ funny?_ ”

She shook her head condescendingly. “You’ve just made a serious mistake, sugar,” she cooed.

Shocker’s ire turned into confusion. “The fuck you’re talking about?”

Rogue’s smile became wider, and only then Shocker noticed that the brown of her eyes had almost turned black, exhibiting something that resembled dangerously with madness.

Just like he’d done few minutes ago, she showed her hand to him calmly. “You didn’t notice when I took my glove off.”

_“Rogue, NO!”_

Charles’ cry was the last thing Shocker heard before Rogue’s naked hand landed forcefully on his face. Her fingers dug into the flesh, as her other hand grabbed his nape to keep him in place.

From the corner of his eye, Shocker saw everyone jolt from their seats – some out of fear, some out of shock, and others because of an instinctive urge that spurred them to distance themselves as far they could when they noticed the beginning of the “pull”.

He looked into Rogue’s eyes, wondering why his body didn’t respond to the attack, when he felt the first wave of blinding pain paralyzing him. He watched in horror her smooth face distort from the veins that crawled on the surface of her skin, expanding into conduits that received the energy her power was drinking in greedily. He heard himself moan in agony, witnessing his memories, thoughts and power getting ripped out, surrendering into the force that drained him.

Rogue kept holding on Shocker despite the squalling reactions and panic around her, basking in his energy and the twisted satisfaction she experienced everytime she welcomed another’s existence inside her. In time, she’d learned how to control the absorption, making it slow down or speed up – depended on whether she merely wanted the influx of knowledge someone possessed or make it harrowing for them.

Shocker was about to collapse, when she released him. She watched with satisfaction as he crumbled before her feet, thrashing mostly from the shock and the pain that compared with nothing he’d experienced before.

Rogue heard his groans as his echo was shrieking inside her head. She took a step back and saw Hank along with Erik and the Professor rushing towards the fallen mutant.

She shut her eyes and focused on the inside. The rolling of her eyes behind her eyelids gave away the inner battle, as she struggled to detain Shocker’s voice. Eventually, she managed to confine it behind the mental barb wires she’d created over the years. The abducted fragment of his soul caved in, accepting its fate while it was placed to one of the mental cells that waited to be inhabited.

The fluttering of her eyelashes signaled the end of the fray. Once her head was quiet again, she realized everything was quiet outside too.

She opened her eyes slowly. The first thing she saw was Hank, Erik and Charles still struggling to bring Shocker back to his senses; the Brotherhood and the X Men were staring at her with an astonishment that resembled horror. Only Emma, Drago and Tattoo seemed placid and quite satisfied – each of them for their own reasons – with the power display they’d observed, if the faint grin on their faces was anything to go by.

Yukio wasn’t sure how to feel about what she’d witnessed. Rogue had treated her with kindness and respect from the first moment they met. So far she seemed to be calm and collected and in control of herself. What she’d just seen didn’t match the first impression of her. It was almost like the person she’d been introduced to had stepped down and someone – _something_ – else had taken over.

The Asian looked at her more carefully. She was stilly in an unnatural way, but she looked younger and brighter, like she’d been internally swathed in light, glowing from the inside.

 _Life_ , Yukio thought. _Life fortified by death_. Given her gift, it wasn’t strange she’d felt intimate towards that woman since the beginning.

She turned to Logan. He was standing right behind her, unable to comprehend what had just happened. He was as quiet as Rogue and Yukio wondered if their mutations had something to do with that uncanny connection they were sharing.

A clucking sound made everyone turn to it. John was grasping the conference table with shaking hands, pushing his back on it in an effort to keep himself away from Rogue as possible.

Rogue looked down and saw the source of the noise that disturbed the heavy silence – his shark lighter lying open on the floor.

Enjoying the trepidation she had caused, she raised her head and crooked her brow mockingly. “Déjà-vu, Pyro?” she whispered, and flaming rings circled the brown of her eyes, disappearing immediately into their depths. 

She walked slowly where her glove had been dropped. She lowered on her heels and picked it up, putting it back on like a surgeon who was about to perform a demanding medical procedure.

She trudged to where Shocker was still reclined, though he now had his senses. Hank was giving him first aid, while Erik and Xavier stayed close to offer their assistance if necessary.

“No need for that, Doc; he’ll be fine,” Rogue muttered, as she set her glove. She stared Shocker who seemed to be more groggy and shaken than hurt. “I only took as much as I needed for my point to be made. For his sake, I hope it was,” she warned.

Erik looked at her disconcerted, being almost as fretful as his crony. She didn’t blame the man; obviously, he still remembered the night of his rescue, as well as the night he’d made her use her powers on him. He knew what a once in a lifetime experience her mutation offered to someone who was looking to have a taste of it.

Rogue was noticing the Professor’s similar reaction, when she felt a delicate, familiar touch on her shoulders. She tilted to her left to observe the soft ebony fingers caressing her attentively in that sisterly gesture she secretly loved, yet had never admitted openly.

“Are you alright, child?” Ororo’s mellow voice was filled with concern. Rogue noticed the same anguish in Pete, Jubilee and Puppet Master. His grey eyes mirrored his distress, making Rogue’s soften.

_Oh, Bryan. Always so eloquent in your silence…_

“Rogue?”

The hesitant question made her flip around. Surprised, she realized it belonged to Kitty, who stood there watching her.

It’d been too long since their teenage fragile friendship had crumbled, leaving nothing but inhibition between them – especially when they were alone. Rogue had never held against her what had happened, but she always made sure there was enough space to keep them separate at all times. It was inevitable for her to feel surprise when Shadowcat vocalized her concern.

Rogue lips tightened and then curled to an appeasing smile. She nodded to her team and the X Men that watched her skeptically, and made sure she didn’t let her sight go to Logan – even though that meant to ignore Yukio too, who was standing in front of him. His agony was all over the place, paying no mind to who might notice. 

She placed her now covered hand on Storm’s in a complacent gesture.

“I’m fine,” she reassured her. “And so is he,” she jerked at Shocker. “Hank, Erik, Professor please, let’s not make a fuss. In a minute he’ll be as good as new.” She drew in a deep breath and looked around. “Now; how about we finish this meeting?”

Charles wheeled his chair to her, while Hank and Erik were helping Shocker to stand up. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked warily.

“Are you kiddin’?” Peeper seemed like he’d found his voice again. “She almost drained Shocker dry and you’re asking _her_ if she’s ok?”

“I agree,” Emma said. “She’s perfectly fine and perfectly aware of what she’s doing. Let’s not treat her like a fragile youngster, shall we?” 

“Don’t get jealous, Emma,” Rogue retorted. “You’re still the center of attention – as always – _and_ everyone’s favorite.”

Rogue’s snide remark got her a sour sneer.

“Here you go, my boy,” Hank placed the focus back on Shocker, who was now helped by the blue mutant to rest on his chair. Aside his dizziness and fatigue, Shocker was back to his old self.

Rogue moved away from Storm and the Professor to approach him. Erik straightened, while Hank raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

“Rogue,” he began, but she stopped him with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t worry, Hank. I just want to thank him, that’s all.”

Shocker looked at her bewildered.

“Your power is a nice addition to the set of armory I already have in my stash. If it wasn’t for your stupid swagger, I wouldn’t be able to have access to it. So…thank you,” she said seriously, and before she headed back to her seat, she leaned over him to add one last thing. “You have my word that I’ll use it mindfully.” 

She sat dispassionately on her chair, like nothing had happened. One by one, all took their places numbly around the conference table too.

Logan was struggling to keep himself from scurrying out as fast as he could. The urge to run was stronger than ever – even stronger than it was in the aftermath of Alcatraz. His inner animal kept lurking and growling, but he couldn’t accept what his instincts and eyes were telling him. He found impossible to believe the way Rogue had reacted. His throat was dry and he wished he had something strong enough to burn his palate and a good smoke to blur Storm’s words that kept replaying in his head;

 _She’s not a kid, Logan_ _._ _Your mind is still engrossed by the image of the young girl you’d picked from the streets and had under your wing years ago. She’s not who she was back then._

He shook his head in denial. No matter how many times he heard this, he just couldn’t digest it.

_Eventually, you’ll be forced to._

Emma’s refined voice made Logan jolt. He let out a snarl that caught everyone off guard.

_Do this again, and I’m gonna give you a facelift that’ll make you mess with people’s minds to keep seeing you as pretty!_

_That’s enough!_

Charles’ mental reprimand made Emma keep her tongue. The Professor sent her a reprimanding glare.

_None of this again, Emma. You’ve already been warned._

Emma huffed at the ultimatum, until she saw Rogue’s scowl and felt her inciting a similar reaction – against her this time. Logan brows furrowed at the silent exchange that seemed to escalate.

The undercurrent suddenly became heavy, making everyone aware of the clash, until something the Professor said put it out.

Erik peered at him and then Emma and Rogue, realizing that the moment of tension was gone.

As Logan continued to wonder what had taken place between Rogue and the blondy, Charles took over.

“So; unless there are any questions left, I believe it’s time for this meeting to come to a closure.” He waited for some reaction, though he was pretty certain none would come up after Rogue’s exhibition.

“Very well,” he concluded. “In this case, let us all go and prepare. The mission begins in few hours. Thank you all for your cooperation.”

The decisive tone passed the message, and each of the teams hurried to follow it.

From the corner of his eye, Logan saw Rogue’s team, Colossus, Sage and Jubilee intend on approaching Rogue; but Charles preempt them before they had the chance.

“Shocker, Rogue; a word, please.”

Shocker, who was getting checked by his fellow Brotherhood, expected a reprimand from the old man and seemed reluctant to approach, until a gesture from Erik made him move.

Rogue nodded to her teammates and friends a reassurance, and with a glance towards Yukio who was staring her with great interest – unwilling to leave the room for some reason – she scuttled to where the Professor was. Erik was heading to him too – after a mental request, no doubt.

Logan was so engrossed in watching what was taking place, he didn’t notice Hank and Storm until they were right next to him.

“Logan, why didn’t you say anything?” the weather witch went straight to the point.

Logan knew she was referring to his bone claws, but that wasn’t a subject he wanted to discuss – especially with Hank around. He liked the blue feral and trusted him as few, but he wasn’t ready to get into an argument about paying a visit to his lab.

He made a face as he shook his head. “There’s nothing to say, ‘Ro. Everything’s fine, really,” he tried to reassure her, but Storm wasn’t fooled.

“Are you certain, my friend?” Hank insisted. “Perhaps you should-”

“Blue, come on, spare me the whole ‘maybe you should check on that’ speech,” he grumbled.

Hank looked at him self-consciously. “Well, I wasn’t going to suggest-” he stopped mid-sentence when he saw Logan’s pointy stare, and Logan could’ve sworn he saw some pink blushing his hairy cheeks.

Hank fidgeted. “Well, maybe I was going to _merely_ suggest-”

“There’s no need,” Logan cut him off, his tone leaving no room for debate. “I’m fine.”

“Alright, my friend,” Hank retreated.

Storm approached a little more. “If you do need anything though, we’re here for you,” she said in a low voice, accompanied by Hanks accord.

Logan’s smile was warm at his friends’ offer, and his hand gave a gentle squeeze at the weather witch’s arm.

“I know, ‘Ro. Thanks – both of you,” he said as he caught Rogue walking by to get to Charles. His eyes followed her route all the way along with Storm’s and Hank’s, when he heard the feral doctor’s discreet “excuse me” before leaving to join them.

Rogue went to stand intentionally right next to Shocker, who jolted, but regrouped instantly.

“Shocker, even though your strength appears to be back fully, Erik and I would like Henry to run some tests to make sure everything’s alright.”

“I’m fine,” he said abruptly. “No need for tests. I’m good to go.” He sneered at Rogue, who lifted an arrogant brow at him.

“Still, it would be wise to let Henry examine you,” Erik left no room for arguments. “You wouldn’t like to jeopardize the only chance our brothers have to be free and reconnected with us, would you?”

Shocker sulked, but grunted reluctantly his consent.

“Excellent,” Hank replied. “Let us proceed. The sooner we complete the examination, the more time you’ll have to prepare.”

As they watched them walking out, Charles turned to Rogue, who was well aware what he wanted with her.

“Rogue I would like us to have a brief session before you depart for the mission as well,” he suggested calmly.

“I understand your concern, Professor, but I assure you that everything – and _everyone_ – is under control,” she connoted.

Charles wasn’t convinced. “Even so, it wouldn’t harm to give some of your time for the sake of punctilio,” he tried again.

Rogue braced herself. _No_ ; she wasn’t going to jeopardize the mission – nor her place in it – if the Professor thought it best for her to stay behind. Or let the man see her emotional turmoil. She was already afraid he could sense it – as well as the reason behind it. She wasn’t willing to give him more; not yet at least. She needed to buy more time.

“If I say no, are you going to force me?” That would do it. She’d become an expert at manipulation over the years and knew which words had the deepest impact in each person – including the powerful telepath.

Charles lifted his chin. “You already know the answer to this question,” he uttered, obviously offended.

Rogue continued to stare at him, hoping her guards were staunch enough to keep him out. Her jaw tightened. “In that case, I’d rather have our session when I return. I think I’m gonna need it more after the end of the mission,” she pledged.

He inhaled deeply. “Very well,” he relented. “I will see you then.”

Rogue realized the warning behind his voice that vouched he wouldn’t let that go.

She nodded curtly and turned on her heels, but as she was about to leave, she came face to face with Erik.

Her neutral expression that told and hid everything went back on.

“Did we miss something?” she asked with apparent conceit.

His demeanor was sullen. “Was this power boasting necessary?”

Rogue’s eyes narrowed. “Funny; I was going to ask you the same thing. What the hell was that, Erik? I thought you’d made clear to your followers how things work here.”

“Shocker is new in this; and quite the over enthusiast. I’m afraid we rushed to include him to operations,” he sighed in frustration.

“ _You_ rushed. You’re the one who suggested him for this mission. If you didn’t think he’s ready why did you bring him in the first place?”

“We are running out of time. And there’s not enough manpower either. We need as much reinforce as we can have. Shocker might still be in an outdated place mentally, but he’s determined; and _loyal_ ,” Erik pointed out.

“To _whom_?” Rogue challenged.

“Rogue is right,” Avalanche agreed. He and Drago had decided to stay behind when they’d heard Xavier calling her and Shocker to stay. The rest of the team wanted to remain too, but Avalanche kept them from it. Not leaving the War Room the moment the Professor had asked it would be considered defiance, and he knew that Rogue wouldn’t have that. He’d decided to stay back just in case. Drago felt the same and Avalanche let him, knowing that trying to convince him otherwise would be futile.

The remaining mutants were watching the dispute closely. Logan and Yukio among them, who were in close proximity to listen what was going down.

“Shocker’s loyalty to you doesn’t guarantee to the rest of us he won’t act unpredictably during the mission. What if he decides to settle his score with Rogue during the extraction?” Avalanche demanded.

“He wouldn’t dare,” Erik insisted. “As you’ve already heard him say he’s more than resolved to help his fellow mutants escape. Plus, he might be a fool to provoke Rogue, but not foolish enough to provoke _me_ ,” his tone was menacingly low.

“Yet he already did,” Rogue nodded. “You accuse me of showing off, but you conveniently neglect that _he_ was the one who wanted to put on a show in the first place.”

“I do not ignore nor try to excuse my man’s mistakes,” Erik objected. “But perhaps this was the best way for him to learn his place. As for his conduct during the mission, I am certain that you will bring him back in line before the operation even begins – which I believe was the main reason you used your powers on him in the first place,” he stared at her knowingly.

Rogue snorted. She knew how Erik functioned as a mutant and a leader. After all, he was the most dominant resident in her mind – aside from Logan. The man wasn’t a fool. If he’d tried to restrain Shocker by force, he might’ve lost the trust of his most loyal followers. At the same time he needed to show the X Men that he was willing to side with them in order for this “alliance” to work. So, while he was mildly protesting about his crony’s reaction, at the same time he was forcing Rogue not only to prove herself to the ones who still doubted her, but also step in and solve the problem without him been accused by either sides.

She shook her head as her lips went up in a bitter grin. “So, once again you made me take your place and get the job done for you,” she concluded.

Erik said nothing. The Professor was monitoring the exchange without interfering. He didn’t plan to defend Erik on this and was more than certain that Rogue wanted to put him in his place herself. After the situation his old friend had allowed to happen, he deserved what was coming.

Rogue sighed and glared at him. “Alright, _Magneto_ ; I’ll do the dirty job for you one last time and teach your toy soldier how to operate. But if after that he still fails to see the bigger picture, he’s out.”

“And not just out of missions,” Charles pointed out. “Rogue is right; despite the constantly increased need for more mutants to join our ranks, I won’t have individuals who indulge in bullying roaming _my_ house,” he clarified.

Erik looked at both and nodded. “You have my word that I’ll be the one to see him off if tonight’s mission doesn’t change his perspective,” he pledged. “I make no discounts when it comes to loyalty.”

“Neither am I when it comes to disrespect,” Rogue answered back, and walked closer so only Erik would listen what she was about to say next. “Don’t ever put me in such position again. My mutation is not your playground, nor I’m here to make leadership easier for you. Next time one of your men goes out of line, so will I,” she warned, and then leaned closer to whisper in his ear.

“Restrain your sheep; or I will unleash my wolves,” she directed him at Drago and Avalanche who were glaring at him, and this time she was the one to give him a knowing look. “Am I clear?”

“Crystal, my dear,” Erik asserted, remembering the similar back-and-forth they had few nights ago.

“Good,” she said through clenched teeth, and went to her team members.

She caught a motion from the corner of her eye and saw Yukio approaching her. Rogue felt a wave of embarrassment. The woman had seen her only twice ever since she’d stepped her foot in the Mansion and both times she hadn’t exactly been at her best.

Logan observed Yukio’s act, thought he wasn’t sure why or for what she was going to Rogue. He took notice of her sudden strain and wondered what made her tense towards Yukio.

Rogue’s gloved fingers flickered in an effort to loosen up and her hands hid behind her back. She simpered lightly and lowered her head before lifting it up once the red-haired Asian reached her.

“I’m afraid that everytime you and I meet is always a bad time to present the good side of myself,” she shrugged with an apologetic pout.

Yukio smiled in understanding. “I was here the entire time. I saw what happened. No one can blame you for standing up for yourself; I would’ve done the same thing.”

Rogue nodded and loosened her hands. She stayed silent and didn’t seem eager to leave, so Yukio pressed on.

“What you did before – your powers,” she began, and Rogue’s face was etched by wariness.

Yukio let her admiration on display. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Your mutation is truly amazing!”

“Yes, well…” Rogue tried to find the right words. “It doesn’t feel as amazing as it looks. It comes with certain drawbacks.”

“Don’t all mutations?” Yukio said, bitterness lacing her voice.

Rogue nodded in agreement. “Absolutely; but you must know by now that the more outstanding the gift, the heavier the load.”

“You’re right,” Yukio concurred. “From what I witnessed, your power must be severe; and not just to its receivers.”

Rogue stared at the Japanese woman baffled. From what she knew, this person had been spending the past two years of her life with Logan. And yet, for some reason she indirectly claimed she was not aware of what her powers could do. The thought gave Rogue a pang of something she didn’t want to put her finger at. Yukio didn’t know anything about her powers, because apparently _he_ hadn’t mentioned _anything_ about it – or her.

 _Of course_ , she thought ruefully. The moment he’d left the Mansion, he’d shut the door at her and everyone else who had any connection with this part of his life. Why would he think or talk of her?

The false speculation made her twinge in woe. Logan, who was still watching from a distance, saw the brusque change and wondered if the times she’d been forced to use her skin plagued her in the same way he was by his mutation. Once again, he lamented and bashed himself for all the times he was too far for her to reach.

Yukio tilted her head confused. “Did I say something?”

Rogue snapped back and shook her head quickly. “Not at all. I just have to go and get some things ready before we depart.” She paused for a second. “Is that all you wanted to say to me?”

Yukio considered it a bit. “Actually…there’s one more thing I’d like to ask.” When she hesitated, Rogue urged her to go on with a nod. “I hope it won’t sound disrespectful to the way you choose to run things-”

Rogue cut her short with a raised hand. “Feel free to ask me anything you want. I’m not in habit of misunderstanding people just because they voice an opinion.”

Yukio grinned. “That man – Shocker; you sure you can trust him? One thing I was taught from my battle experience is that you need to trust your fellow fighters with your life if you’re going to survive. Your man was right; what if he decides to retaliate for what you did to him during the mission?”

Logan nodded in accord with Yukio as he was now standing a few feet away. Without realizing it, his mouth began to speak.

“Yukio’s right; taking this guy with you is quite a risk-taking.”

Rogue eyed him annoyed, but said nothing. She tried to come up with an effective way to explain.

She licked her lips and turned back to Yukio, refusing to acknowledge Logan. “A mission can have a wide spectrum of purposes. In this particular case, aside from the main goal of bringing down the base and free the captives, a side-objective is for all of us to learn how to work as a unit; how to learn to set our aliquot differences aside and focus on something bigger. We’ve all decided to put the cause above everything else – in words. But in order to apply this actively, we need to experience the heat of battle and all its risks together. Shocker has never been in an operation before; this is his first try-out. Fighting with us – on my side – will be eye opening. It’ll reinforce the established verbal bonds with solid foundations that can only be built through life changing experiences. And from the things I’ve seen so far, only combat can do that.

Now, if even that doesn’t help, you’ve already heard what’s going to go down for him,” she reminded hers and Xavier’s warnings to Erik about his follower. “And if he decides to pull any stunt during the mission, well…” she peered at Avalanche and Drago. “I might have enemies, but I also have good friends who have my back.”

Yukio was amazed. For all her youth, the woman with the white streaks and the quiet toughness seemed to carry all the secrets of the world. No wonder the outcome of her mutation was so devastating to her.

Seeing her not saying anything other than just admiring her, Rogue called it as the end of the conversation. She smiled and winked sassily at Yukio.

“Who knows; maybe one day you’ll see the things we see as part of a mission too.”

She jerked a goodbye at her and was striding as fast as she could to get to Avalanche and Drago before she had an encounter she wanted to avoid.

She picked Avalanche and Drago’s hard gaze, but didn’t realize the heavy hand grasping her right arm above the elbow until it was too late.

“Hey!”

Rogue set her feet firmly on the floor and braced herself; hopefully he’d get the message before things had to go too south.

Logan’s grip was firm, but gentle. She looked down at the steely fingers before sending her eyes to meet his. It always surprised her how he managed to have a touch that could be so deadly and yet so tender, even though she possessed the exact same skill too.

Logan ignored her warning glare. If anything, after all the disregard she’d fed him since the moment they’d seen each other again, he ought to return the favor at least once.

Drago geared up, but before he had the chance to take a step towards Logan, Avalanche kept him in place. This fight belonged to Rogue; plus, he wanted to confirm if his suspicions about what was going down between them were right.

Rogue lifted a Logani-sh eyebrow. “Something’s wrong?”

He returned the gesture. “Lots of things,” he warned quietly. “Let’s start from the most recent ones and then we’ll work our way up.”

Her eyes sparkled dangerously. “ _We?_ ” she sneered, and pulled her arm away violently.

Logan greeted his teeth to choke a growl. “I’m not gonna try to talk you outta this crazy plan of yours to take Magneto’s asshole with you after the stunt he pulled-”

“How generous of you,” she scoffed with a sweet voice.

“-but you’re not leaving until we talk through what you said during your outburst.”

Rogue went stiff before hiding behind her neutral façade again. Her mind sprinted to recall the words she’d said while she was going rampant after Shocker’s push:

 _The people who’d promised they’d take care of me and then disappeared to go shove themselves in a hole to_ _CRY OVER FUCKIN’ SPILLED MILK?_

Logan watched her jaw clench. The leather covering her hands cracked under the pressure of her fists. Good; time to throw her off a bit more.

“Storm and the Professor have always wanted what was best for you. They didn’t deserve this pile-on.”

Rogue looked at him dumbstruck. “Is _that_ what this is all about?” she asked incredulously. “You’re trying to clean your slate – and your _shit_ – be stepping up for ‘Ro and the Professor?”

“I don’t need to clean a fuckin’ thing,” he snarled. “And I’m not the one who has shit to explain himself for.”

“Really?” she snorted mockingly. “Quit flashing your teeth, oh mighty _Wolverine_. Storm and Xavier don’t need you to defend them. And as for what’s goin’ on between me and them…well, that’s between _me_ and _them_ ,” she clarified with a low voice, and went to pass by him.

Logan blocked her way with his body. “And what about the shit you threw at _me_ , _Rogue_?” he jeered.

Rogue stared at him calmly. Her fingers began to itch, forcing her to rub them. _No_ ; this time the gloves stayed put. No way she was reinforcing his existence in her mind. He had too much influence over her already.

“I tend to say a lot of things. If you really wanna be back on the team, you’re gonna have to find a way to _not_ take everything personally, and learn which shit to toss aside.”

Logan felt the claws crack through his knuckles. His chest was going up and down from the excessive effort to keep from grabbing her.

“We’re done,” Rogue announced, and pushed him to step aside.

Logan snatched her right forearm, but before he was able to do or say more, Rogue’s right hand twisted and grabbed his forearm, forcing him towards her. Her left hand landed on the back of his head, bringing him closer to her face.

“You don’t get it, do you?” she whispered vehemently, and Logan could feel her warm breath caressing him. “Don’t your senses work anymore? Or you just decided to ignore them?”

Before she’d finished her sentence, Logan took an involuntary deep breath. His nostrils flared and then for the first time ever since he came back, it hit him;

_Her scent._

Her scent when she entered the Professor’s office; when he was standing outside her room; when she walked into the War Room. Why hadn’t he noticed before? He inhaled deeper and noticed the difference between then and now…

Where light and soft breeze used to cradle her essence, now there were shadows and fire. A fire that was torrid and burned with a passion. He took in the acrid odor of strength that was only a sough when he first met her.

Logan shook. There weren’t many things that could throw him off, but the fact that she was so foreign to his instinct and senses – the guides he relied on the most – was so disorienting, he couldn’t tell who she was anymore. That didn’t just alarm him; it _frightened_ him. And not many could instill that in him.

Rogue kept watching him, as the revelation made his expression switch from shock, to astound, to grief. She choked the pain that was threatening to spill and kept her well trained detachment at bay.

“Do you get in _now_?” she muttered, and released both herself and him from the mutual grip to gait out as fast as she could. 

Logan watched her leave with her scent staying behind, reminding him what was gone. He sucked in another breath disheartened; that helped him catch the remains of her current odor and along with it a fragment of her old scent. A shred of balmy breeze and glowing fondness that once embowered her and he took with him everytime she held him in her brittle hug before he left.

His head jerked up while she was scuttling of. With his hope renewed, he went quickly behind her. “Hey, kid!”

She paused and turned her head slightly without looking at him. “There’s no kid,” she responded, and strode outside. Avalanche followed, leaving Yukio, Charles and Erik the only spectators. This time he didn’t stop Drago, nor told him to join him and Rogue. He’d seen what he wanted to see. If the Wolverine guy wanted to push his luck, that was his choice.

“Rogue!” Logan yelled frustrated.

Ηis chest bumped on a brawny hand with a loud smack, stopping him on his track. Drago pushed back in warning that Logan had gone too far.

“You don’t get it now either, do you?” he growled.

Logan reacted rapidly by grasping Drago’s hand. “You have a death wish or somethin’, bub?” he breathed.

Drago’s brow crooked provokingly. “Funny; I was about to ask the same thing.”

He broke Logan’s grip, separating their hands with a brisk noise. They measured each other like fight dogs in a pit.

“Drago! Logan! Stop this at once!” the Professor interfered, while signaling at a moving Yukio a plea to stay put. Erik chose not to interfere, but at the same time he was curious to see how this dispute would come to an end.

“Tell that to this asshole; he’s the one who sticks his nose where he shouldn’t,” Logan snarled.

Drago let out a menacing growl, and Logan noticed with a frown the skin of his arms quivering and forming something that looked like scales. He looked at him again, and saw a flashing golden yellow staring back at him.

“She made perfectly clear the conversation is over,” Drago hurled. “Get the fuckin’ hint and buzz off,” he warned again.

Logan put his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes. “Oh, I see,” he grunted with a low voice. “You’re one of her boy toys too, aren’t ya?”

Drago leaned closer with a sneer. “Seems I’m not the only one.”

Logan canines flexed once again. “Watch it, lizard. What’s goin’ on between Rogue and me is none of your fuckin’ business.”

“Rogue _is_ my business. You fuck with her, you fuck with me,” Drago snarled.

Logan was about to attack, when a commanding voice preempted him before he had the chance.

“Drago!”

Both ferals looked at Rogue surprised. Caught up in their wrangling they hadn’t realized she’d returned and was standing at the door’s ledge, watching in silence.

She gave Drago an unwavering stare.

“Tulla,” she only said. _Come._

Drago inhaled deeply, but didn’t indiscipline. After a nasty glare at Logan, he walked to Rogue.

Rogue rewarded Logan’s attitude with a strict look and then left the room along with her teammate. Yukio observed respectfully the way she solved the problem.

Logan’s mouth ticked in irritation. Another thing he’d have to settle with her after she was back. He turned to see Charles watching him stoically.

“What?” he barked. “You’re gonna blame this on me now?”

“I’m not inclined to blame anything on anyone,” the Professor responded serenely. “We’re only a few hours away from a very critical operation. Let’s try to keep ourselves composed, shall we?”

Logan huffed and cracked his neck to ease the tension. He peered at the exit.

“What’s this asshole’s problem? He’s her bodyguard or somethin?”

The Professor seemed to think about it. “I wouldn’t necessarily claim that Rogue needs any kind of protection, but yes, you could say that, I suppose.”

Logan’s brows knitted together. “Avalanche told me that most of her team members were extracted from the labs. He was too, wasn’t he?” he guessed.

Charles nodded. “That is correct.”

“So, he’s into hero worshipping?” Logan scoffed.

The Professor didn’t share his inclination to mock. “I’m afraid it goes beyond hero worshipping, thus making their connection a bit more complicated than that,” he implied.

The telepath’s suggestive look made Logan recoil. _Shit_. This wasn’t something he wanted to discuss with the old man. He needed to talk with Rogue; _fast_.

“How about you and Yukio get some rest?” Xavier advised. “It’s been quite a tumultuous meeting, and the mission will probably be as turbulent. Perhaps some time of tranquility will help.”

“You’re right, Professor” Yukio responded on behalf of both herself and Logan, and went to get him. “Thank you for everything.”

Charles gestured politely in response and watched as Yukio urged Logan to exit the War Room, leaving him and Erik alone.

Once they were out, Yukio left Logan’s arm after a protesting growl and turned to him with a big smile.

Logan frowned, not getting what her excitement was about, until her response to his scowl left him dumbfounded.

“I like her a lot!”

……

_Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel_

_Is just the freight train coming your way…_

_(No leaf clover – Metallica)_

She raised the zipper all the way up, making sure the fabric around her neck would be choke free as possible. The glassy door of the chamber where her uniform rested closed, and she saw her reflection staring back at her.

Her white strands were braided back down the middle, and along with the rest were restricted by a ponytail that lay on her back. The way her white locks surrounded her head made her seem like she was wearing a silver halo. She smiled bitterly at the irony.

She turned her attention to the uniform. Black bulletproof leather was coating her body from top to bottom. The dark green parts that were covering her chest, arms, side torso and outer thigh muscles were indirectly giving away the extra protection to the body parts that were likely going to get attacked the most. Short gloves that encircled the wrists were chosen for the sole purpose of convenience. The easier she could take them off to use her skin, the better. Military boots that hugged her legs and stopped right beneath her knees completed her image.

She gave a solemn stare at the green X that marked and protected her sternum from possible lethal hits; tilted her neck slightly to present the small Xs that were marking the sides where her suit ended. The same letter was also tattooed at the edge of the sleeves.

There was a time she had worn the X suit with pride and joy. The first time it was given to her, a thrill had shot through her; she wasn’t on the team yet – in fact she was just beginning her training to earn a place in it. But the moment she wore the black leather, infinite possibilities filled her easily impressed young mind. She’d fight for what was good and right; protect the innocent; defend Xavier’s vision about a world where mutants and humans could finally coexist; battle against injustice; prove everyone – including her parents – who thought of her as monster that she was better than that.

_Make a difference._

She’d allowed herself to bask in these foolish dreams for too long. The countdown for everything that followed had already begun, but she was too inclined to keep living in denial. Things _had_ to get better; it was the only way. She snorted.

Her mind flew at today’s events at the War Room. The talk that followed after with Drago was indicative of how volatile things had become.

_“_ _Haluan sinun pysyvän poissa hänestä,” she’d stressed._ _“_ _Vaikka hän provosoi sinut.” I want you to stay away from him. Even if he provokes you._

 _“Käskit häntä peruuttamaan; hän ei kuunnellut,” was Drago’s response._ _You told him to back off; he wouldn’t listen._

_Rogue stopped and turned to him._

_“I know you want to make sure I’ll be alright no matter what, and I appreciate that; but this isn’t your fight,” Rogue chided him. “You saw how he is. He has no qualms challenging others to get what he wants. I can handle him, but I’m not so sure you can. If it comes to a clash – which is mathematically certain, given how you both are walking ticking bombs – you might cause a rift between the teams. Not to mention you’ll bring down half the Mansion before you realize there’s no point for two super healers to fight in order to solve the problem. The Professor won’t have a showdown between you two; and neither will I.”_

_If Drago’s heave wasn’t enough proof about his disagreement, his sulky mood was. He brought his arms in front of his chest, his face smothered in indignation as he looked away._

_Rogue sighed. To most, Drago seemed like a beast that felt no pain or anything that resembled emotion. He was just like Logan in so many ways. Both ferals, both tormented men that had their bodies and souls ripped apart over and over again, both determined to let no one see the fear and desolation that rode them nightmare after nightmare. Their armors were made of something much sturdier and stronger than metal, something that didn’t allow anything to penetrate it – including people. The fact that he’d trusted her enough when he saw her barging into his cell to allow her to get him out, and then to let her and Hank help him recover, spoke volumes of how deeply he confided in her. And how determined he was to return the favor._

_She went closer and touched his face gently, turning it back to her again._

_“You’re not the only one who cares,” she stated. “I don’t want you to get into trouble out of a false sense of duty. You owe me nothing; you know that.”_

_“Agree to disagree,” was all he said._

_Rogue smiled. Her palm went to his thick, knotted black hair that lay on his sternum. She knew what he was talking about. She’d been there too. The overwhelming sense of gratitude and obligation one could feel for the person that risked their lives to save them. The impossible task to find words to express the feels, and the inevitable silence when you realized there weren’t any._

_She shook her head. There was a time she was in Drago’s place. A man had taken the biggest gamble to keep her alive. Years later, she was placed in the position of savior herself, doing something similar for another – a_ feral man _of all mutants. That night made Rogue see through Logan’s spectrum. Suddenly his refusal to stand on the pedestal she’d happily built for him made a whole lot sense._

_Life certainly knew how to play twisted games in its effort to teach harsh lessons._

She came back to the present. She held no expectations now; no wishful thinking – not for people or their situation. She’d seen enough to know they were fighting a never ending war. There would be long pauses of peace and truce between the excruciating battles for dominance, only for someone to come eventually and continue this vicious circle; human or mutant – it didn’t matter. There would always be a battlefield made of hate and fear for everything that was too different to be accepted nonchalantly as merely “unique”.

Both sides had lied. Her whole life, all she ever heard was to be herself. “Don’t change for anyone”; “don’t be afraid to walk a different path, as long as it’s _your_ path”.

What everyone conveniently skipped was that you’re allowed to be different as far as people’s acceptance could take it. Be different, but don’t stand out; walk your path, as long as it takes you where everyone else goes; be yourself as long as it doesn’t bother or “offend” others’ existence. An illusion of tolerance so perfectly set, that very few could see beyond it.

She kept fighting though; she remained loyal to the X Men’s cause – she would always be – and she was more than willing to make sacrifices. She couldn’t go back. She’d seen too much, _survived_ too much to pretend she could just leave everything behind and live a peaceful life.

But there was no silver lining anymore; no thrill, no excitement everytime she was suiting up. Only a rush, a wave of adrenaline riding her blood and a sheer, vivid emotion that seemed too much like euphoria for what was about to come. She wasn’t sure she liked it, but she allowed herself to embrace it, as well as everything and anything that helped her pull through before, during and after a fight.

She blinked and shook her head slightly. She was finding it too hard to concentrate tonight. Not too surprising, given the fact that one of her shadiest ghosts had reappeared. He’d come back bringing with him a flood of memories and emotions she wasn’t ready to cope with, but that was something she’d never admit.

She glanced at the long, black cape with the hood and the silver details she was leaving behind. She thought about it for a minute; this was a different kind of mission. No reason for her to remain unidentified.

“Not tonight,” Rogue whispered, and turned around.

Few steps further she stopped, standing still once again. Carefully, her head turned to the end of the corridor. A uniform in another chamber, one that had nothing to do with the X Men and everything they represented and fought for, was calling for her to come closer.

She walked towards the place the _other_ suit was solely kept away from the rest on her insistence and stood in front of it.

A green suit – the color so dark, it could easily be mistaken for black; a pair of gloves and knee high boots of the same color were standing on its right and left respectively. Behind the uniform a dark green hooded cloak completed the set.

Rogue kept staring at it, recalling the name that came along with this uniform. _The Reaper_ ; _the Touch of Death_.

The actions and reputation that have been bestowed on it flooded her mind.

There have been times when the Professor’s morals and values weren’t effective enough to turn the situation to their favor, and the X Men couldn’t cross the line without betraying their ideals; times where extreme measures had to be taken, with no one capable to stray and do what needed to be done.

That’s when the Reaper had stepped in. Rogue was already carrying enough regrets for things she’d done. What was some more guilt on top of it – especially if lives were going to be saved from a fate like the one she and many others like her were given?

It wouldn’t be the first time she was offering her skill set and services, nor the last. It wasn’t too long ago when she’d been gone for another “job”. She wasn’t taking many missions of that kind lately, unless it benefited their fight somehow. She preferred it that way…

Of all the missions and tasks she was chosen for over the past couple of years from various employers and organizations, Charles Xavier’s vision was certainly the best reason she was willing to cross the line; the only time the burden she carried within seemed to be more bearable; and rightful.

She gulped. Eventually she’d put that suit on again. She only hoped that whatever reason would call for such resort would be worth it.

Sometimes she was trying to console herself, thinking the people who’d suffered the effects of her powers deserved it. But during her weakest moments, when hate and anger took over, she caught herself feeling content for the pain and death she had inflicted; even satisfied. And that terrified her.

Rogue closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling her chest struggling to fill with as much air as possible. _Not now. Don’t think of this now. Focus on the mission. Remember why you’re doing this. Why you decided to do it in the first place._

_Jimmy._

_It’s ok; it’s not your fault. Not your fault._

Her eyes opened with a gasp. The wall she always made sure was sturdy enough to contain thoughts and memories that plagued her and kept her from functioning, seemed to be undermined by the games her mind had a knack to play; she realized she’d pushed herself in a mental corner too late and now she had to fight to slip out of it.

“No,” Rogue shut her eyes again and clenched her teeth, struggling to push his voice down. “You’re not real. I never absorbed you. This isn’t real.”

_Maybe you didn’t suck him dry, but you did that to me you sadistic bitch!_

Rogue chocked as she began to realize what her flow of qualm was exuding.

_Let me out!_

“No,” she hissed, her face twisting in hate.

 _Let me the_ fuck _out! You can’t keep me locked up forever!_

“Wanna bet?” she pushed the bastard’s psyche back to the place she held him isolated. A selectable punishment Rogue had chosen to give him for what he’d done.

_Well done, my dear. Compassion cannot be a choice for such men._

“Stay out of this Erik! I don’t need you to tell me how to run things in my head,” Rogue attacked him.

_Please! Let me go! I can’t stay here! Don’t keep me in here, I beg you!_

Tremor began to run her body and a drop of sweat dripped down her temple. She knew what this was; her conscience had an incredible way to show her it was still alive and aware of Rogue’s refusal to reconcile with everything she’d done.

“I’m sorry. I had _no_ choice,” she stuttered.

_Please. My family; I have to find them. I need to see them. I…_

“It’s alright. It’s alright. Everything will be fine,” she kept repeating, unsure if she was talking to the voice or herself. “You sleep now,” Rogue cooed like she was putting a frightened child to bed after a bad dream.

She was breathing heavily, thinking it was over. Until a voice that was the last she wanted to hear murmured soothingly to her.

_You alright, kid?_

Rogue pressed her lips. “Go away.”

_Kid, come on. I’m on your side, remember?_

She snorted and shook her head. “Who asked you to?”

_You don’t have to ask. You never had to ask. I was always here fo-_

“ _Bullshit!_ ” Rogue yelled, and her frustration began to engorge. “You were never here! _Never!_ Everytime you passed by was always out of obligation, or a pleasant break between ‘Gulliver’s travels’, so you could sleep in a fancy place with clean sheets and decent meals! None of this was ever important to you; it was just another task to help with your guilt for all the shit you carry!”

_Rogue, listen to me…_

“ _No,_ you _listen to me!_ This is _my_ mind! _I_ ’m in charge, _I_ set the rules. _That’s_ how it goes, got it? _I_ ’m in control!”

_You sure about that?_

Rogue got caught by the interference and didn’t react quickly enough to contain the new voice that had slipped past her.

_Kid, let me help you. I can keep ‘em-_

“Go to hell!” she lashed out. “I’ll save myself this time.” Suddenly her anger was much stronger that fear and guilt.

And that was her mistake. Charles and Emma had warned her about the way her emotional and psychological state was affecting her powers. The mental damn that kept her feelings in check collapsed and uproar of voices poured out;

_Nohelpmeletmeoutbitchyoutookmylifenooodon’thurtmeletmegoibegyoudont’touchmefuckinmutiewhoreyoustolemylifeyou’llpayforthiswhyi’llfuckingkillyouyouletmegofuckincuntnotsotoughnowareyayou’reminei’llshowyouwhatpainisyoucan’trunthistime_

Rogue was cradling her head, swaying back and forth, her face contorted from pain and panic.

“I’m in charge; I’m in charge; I’m in charge,” she kept chanting through gritted teeth.

But the voices were growing stronger; yelling, threatening, begging, laughing at her, challenging her…until she erupted.

“ _ENOUGH!_ ” she screamed, and the voices terrified by her order retreated, crawling back where they came from.

Rogue let go of her head, panting in frenzy, struggling to calm herself. She doubled-over and her hands landed on her knees like she had sprinted a mile.

When she managed to stand straight again, her control and breath were back. Beads of sweat were coating her forehead. She slowly opened her eyes and the telltale glass that kept the green suit safe gave away a figure behind her.

She turned abruptly and saw Jubilee staring at her gaped. Her eyes were revealing her shock and terror and Rogue could tell she’d been there long enough to know what had happened.

“Chica,” she soughed. Rogue let out a quiet breath and icy crystals were released from her mouth. She shut it astonished, realizing she was not in much control as she thought. She took a look around.

The metal walls and small seats in the room had been contorted in strange shapes. She glanced up and saw the lighting coming from the phosphor lamps swiftly changing from bright to dim like they were charged with more electricity than they could handle. She felt a bit unstable and realized the ground was shaking lightly, small waves travelling underneath their feet.

 _Shit_.

Rogue gave an apologetic look to Jubilee and took a step back to rest on the chamber. She closed her eyes for a moment and the ground became solid again, as the lighting returned to its usual illumination. She licked her lips and put a hand on her neck, feeling how dry her throat was.

Jubilee ran and grabbed her with a look of immense worry.

“Rogue, are you alright?”

“Fine,” she reassured her. “Just give me a moment, ok?”

“Sure. Let me get you some water.” Jubilee looked around to find a place for Rogue to sit. Since everything was made of metal, that turned out to be extremely difficult.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine,” Rogue said in a soothing tone.

Jubilee nodded frantically. “Ok, ok. Be right back in a sec, chica. Don’t pass out on me alright?” and with that, she ran out of the room.

Rogue slowly let herself slide all the way down to the floor. She stretched one leg and rested her hand on the bended knee of the other as she laid her head on the chamber. She gave another glance at the distorted walls and seats, and closed her eyes again; in sheer determination she whispered once more, “ _I_ ’m in charge”.

Jubilee came back with the water a couple of minutes later. She halted and watched around as a new wave of shock went through her.

Everything in the room was back in order. The walls were straight, the small metal seats in their usual shape, the lighting bright and the floor calm and steady.

“ _Fuck_. _Me_. How…when…?” she stuttered with a look of disbelief.

“Well, you know me Jubes. I break it, I fix it,” Rogue tried to joke. “Besides, you‘ve seen me ‘in action’ before. And you were here when I left the lights and the floor alone, remember?”

“Wha- you think I noticed that? I was too busy peeing my thong, man! You scared me shitless!” Jubilee freaked out.

Rogue chuckled. “While I appreciate the image your description offers, do you mind?”

Jubilee frowned at her puzzled.

Rogue gestured towards the paper cup she was holding. “The water, Jubes; can I have it?”

“Oh, fuck! Yeah, sure chica. Here you go,” Jubilee ran towards her and kneeled beside her, placing a hand tenderly on Rogue’s nape and the cup on her lips.

Rogue drank a few precious sips and felt the cool water bedew her mouth and throat.

“Thank you,” she exhaled in relief.

“Feeling better, girl?” Jubilee asked, still shaken after what she’d witnessed.

Rogue took the cup from her, putting it down carefully, and then caressed her hand fondly.

“Don’t worry, sugar. In a couple of minutes I’ll be good to go. See now, that’s why I always prepare an hour earlier when I’m about to go on a mission; and that’s why I keep insisting for you and everyone else to do the same,” she teased.

Jubilee looked at her like she was about to sock her one. “Are you _fuckin’_ kidding me? You’re not going on this mission, _not_ after what I saw in here.”

Rogue gave her a pointy look and started to get up. “I’m not negotiating, Jubes.”

“Neither am I!” Jubilee responded angrily, offering to help her.

“I can get up,” she insisted. Seeing that the stubborn Asian wasn’t retreating, Rogue decided to accept her help.

“Rogue, chica, seriously now, I think you should stay back and have a session with the Professor – or a talk with Hank at least!”

“No staying back, no session, no talks. They won’t tell me anything I don’t already know.”

“Rogue, come on,” Jubilee was following while her friend was marching towards the elevator.

“Jubes,” Rogue turned to her. “You really think I would jeopardize the mission? Or any of you? If I wasn’t sure I could do this, _believe_ me I wouldn’t need you or anyone else to encourage me to stay behind; I would’ve done it myself.”

“ _That’s_ what you think? That I worry about the stupid mission? Who gives a shit about Old Mags’ toy soldiers?” Jubilee exploded.

“It’s not just Magneto’s lackeys, Jubes. There’s more in that facility...”

“And we’ll make sure everything will go just as you planned. Roguey, girl, it’s not the mission I care about; it’s _you_. Spare me the tough act will ya? You think I don’t see how much pressure you put yourself under? Or you think I don’t know this outburst is because of Wolvie’s comeback?”

Rogue stared at her resigned. There really was no point to try and hide from Jubilation Lee. For all the frivolous attitude she was displaying, she was far too empathic and smart to not notice what was going on.

Rogue sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not his fault. Not really. I just-“

“Got caught under a lotta strain; and the Professor’s way to deal with the whole situation pissed you off. And old man Erik didn’t help by sticking his nose in this either, and don’t get me started about Mr. Crabs in the War Room!” Jubilee finished.

Rogue couldn’t stifle her laugh. “God, Jubilee is there anything that escapes your attention? _Ever_?”

“Yeah, the time you lost your sanity! Seriously chica, you should stay here. Talk with the Prof; find a way to settle this. As for Wolfman…just ignore the bitch. I mean, how long is he gonna stay here anyway? A month? Maybe two at most. Since we have no more spare redheads and since I seriously doubt he grew heavy enough _cojones_ to settle the old unconfessed score between the two of you, I say we ignore him until he hightails again with his scut between his legs. Whaddya say?”

“I say we have a mission to go; _now_ ,” Rogue insisted. “We can discuss this later.”

“Don’t change the subject, chica.”

Rogue realized that Jubilee was as determined as she was to have it her way. She let out a breath and walked closer to her.

“Jubilee,” she said as she held her. “You’re more than a friend to me. You’re my sister in every way, except by blood. You were the only one who stood by my side after I’d taken the cure, besides…”

Rogue lowered her eyes, trying to keep herself together. Jubilee placed her hands on her too, emanating compassion and affection for her friend. After a moment, Rogue continued;

“You were there for me in all my pivotal moments. The cure, Bobby…” she paused for a second. “Wolverine leaving, my departure from the Mansion, my return and everything in between. You were always by my side, never judging, only supporting me in every way you could. I’m asking you to do the same now.”

Jubilee tried to say something, but Rogue stopped her.

“You’re right; a lot of things happened at once while I was already under a lot of pressure. I _am_ angry at the Professor for not being honest with me; and what took place in the War Room didn’t help either. As for Wolverine-“

“It’s still hard to call him by his name, huh?” Jubilee cut her.

Rogue pretended she hadn’t been interrupted. “It _is_ hard now that he’s back. But I’m not made of glass. And to be honest, what bothered me the most was the way everyone handled his return than his actual presence here.”

“Rogue; you haven’t even mentioned the man, ever since he left,” Jubilee insisted.

She shrugged, putting on a schooled indifferent expression. Yukio’s brief mention about never hearing of her mutation and what that meant came to her mind. “Why should I remember someone who has forgotten all about me?”

Jubilee shook her head in sympathy. “Oh Roguey; the guy might be a mighty asshole, but I don’t think he-“

“I’m fine,” Rogue emphasized. “I mean it; I’m perfectly able to go on the mission. That…‘incident’ shook me a bit, but I put it under control almost immediately. _I_ control my mind Jubilation. And if I ‘slip’ sometimes, I have the strength to come back and take over. But I promise to speak to the Professor and have a prolonged meditation _after_ we return. What do you say?” she offered.

Jubilee took her friend in a hug and squeezed hard. She knew how important was for Rogue to look strong, _be_ strong. It frightened her to think the extreme measures and risks she was taking just to feel that she was in control of herself and her powers. If there was something Jubes could do to make her friend’s load lighter, she’d do it – even if she vertically disagreed with it. Rogue didn’t need a lecture about her powers, and an advice would fall on deaf ears. If support and encouragement was what she needed now, that’s what Jubilee was going to give her. The talk she was determined to have with her, about what – _whom_ – she was struggling to avoid, would have to wait.

Jubilee huffed. “Avalanche is gonna have a fit once he finds out what happened here. You know he hates the Russian roulette you love to play with your powers as much as I do.”

“No one needs to know,” Rogue stressed.

“Really? You seriously think he’s not gonna figure it out? He’s not your second for no reason. The guy is as good as these dogs the cops use to sniff out drugs. Nothing gets away from him.”

Rogue smirked. Jubilee always knew how to make a good point. “Maybe he’ll find out maybe he won’t. When – _if_ – the time comes I’ll deal with him. Ok?”

Jubilee finally relented. “Ok, chica. You’re the boss. Just make sure you keep yourself safe, alright?”

Rogue gave her a warm smile. “Promise,” she said while crossed her heart, and then reached out a hand.

Jubilee looked at her and the two women exchanged a wicked smirk. The petite Asian high-fived Rogue’s hand, holding it in a tight grip. “Let’s go kick some mutant-hatin’ ass.”

“Now you’re talking,” Rogue quipped, and they both quickened their pace to get to the hangar and the Blackbird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wish you all Merry Christmas and a Happy covid-free New Year! :-)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
